


Erase

by Everyday_Im_Narrating



Series: Erase [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm just gonna say that off the bat, Mentions of past sexual assault, Scott is Dead, Slavery, a little incest happens in one chapter but it's not explicit, dallison - Freeform, kate is an asshole, werewolves are known
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Narrating/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Narrating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison knew falling in love with a runaway werewolf would make for disaster sooner or later. Werewolves are slaves to humans, pets at best. Still, she hadn't been expecting this - for her own aunt to try to take him, resulting in both their deaths.</p><p>Grieving and broken, Allison inherits some of Kate's possessions. Some clothes, some family heirlooms, but most importantly, a tall, very grumpy werewolf by the name of Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So much for Goodwill

Allison could still feel him everywhere.

He didn't deserve to die. Scott was the bravest, smartest, most beautiful werewolf she'd ever met, and she had been so sure - so fucking sure - that he'd heal fast enough. He hadn't. Whenever she managed to sleep, which was increasingly rare these days, Allison saw it again - blood, so much fucking blood, both his and Kate's and a little bit of Allison's too, drenching the bottom half of her jeans as she dropped to her knees and cradled a barely conscious Scott against her chest. His last words hadn't been poetic, hadn't even been intelligible, just a low whimper before his eyes went glossy and Allison didn't even realize she was screaming until her throat started to hurt.

She didn't know when it started. History class at school only showed a diluted, very clearly edited version of the truth, anyway. What she knew was that at some point in the very distant past, werewolves had stopped being treated as equal to the humans and become... Pets, if you believed the words of the very, very elderly. _Slaves_ , if you weren't in a mood for sugar-coated half-truths. A family's wealth was partially determined by how many wolves they owned - and oh, the Argents owned plenty; Allison had been around them since she could remember.

When she was ten, her father had bought the friendly twins who did most of the housework for Allison and her parents, and treated them kindly, like humans. He'd managed to get both boys emancipated when they turned eighteen, five years before Allison, and now they were off at school, with a studying permit, driver's licenses, and all the paperwork they needed to live the most normal life they could. Of course, there was still an overwhelming amout of prejudice to face, and they would never be seen as equal to humans in any social circle, but it was more than they'd get pretty much anywhere else. Begrudging respect and reluctantly assigned, low-paying jobs were still one hell of a lot better than slavery, and they got a good amount of financial help from Chris to provide what their salary couldn't.

Her aunt Kate was a completely different story. Allison never visited her much since she'd started to notice what was going on; the half-dozen wolves who lowered their heads when Kate looked at them and never spoke unless spoken to made her too uncomfortable to spend more than a few hours at the house unless it was absolutely necessary.

Still, even having grown up with parents that treated their wolves with kindness and respect, Allison knew that falling in love with the gorgeous runaway Alpha she'd found in near feral state in the forest would complicate pretty much her entire life.

The fact that she had refused to claim him as her property altogether, refused to own a person, for the two and a half years they'd been together, was ultimately their downfall. Kate had come by to discuss some run-of-the-mill family matter, something involving a distant cousin who wanted to take up archery and whether Allison could teach him. It didn't matter now. They'd talked quietly, the tension very palpable in the room, but it had been fine. It had been fucking _fine_.

Allison didn't want to think about what went wrong. About how maybe, just maybe, if Scott had been tagged and collared, Kate wouldn't have tried to take him, insisted on it, referred to him as a stray dog. He wouldn't have drawn his claws in response. There wouldn't have been wolfsbane bullets or sharp claws tearing past skin, muscle, right into the trachea, still not quick enough to ward off the attack. Allison didn't have time to even blink before her entire world came crashing down.

Now, a week later, she finally had to stop avoiding the house - the house that still had _him_ written all over it, the one she hadn't set foot in since Sheriff Stilinski had to pry her away from Scott's lifeless body - and actually start getting used to life as it would be from now on. Alone. Without him. Life went on, she knew that. She'd be okay eventually, she knew that too. It still didn't make it any easier to leave her father's house, where she'd been staying - hiding, really - since the incident, and make her way home.

The reality of the situation crashed down on her when the smell of harsh cleaning products wafted up in the air. Someone from the police department, probably, had taken the time to clean the blood off the floor. Sure, it would have been much worse to come home to crimson stained floors, and Allison was grateful for that person's thoughtfulness, but it still made her choke back tears she wasn't sure why she was holding.

Allison couldn't go into their bedroom, not yet. Baby steps. Yeah, she'd be fine, she just had to take baby steps. First order of business was coffee, and not feeling entirely pathetic when even seeing those stupid cappuccino pods - the ones Scott liked; she always made an espresso for herself and a cappuccino for him - made her chest ache. Coffee and TV and not thinking. Getting immersed in a How I Met Your Mother marathon, still huddled up in Scott's thick hoodie. That sounded like a good plan. Sounded doable. Little steps to a normal life, post-Scott.

She was halfway through the sixth episode - and third cup of coffee - when the doorbell rang.

"Allison Argent?" At least the man in the uniform had the common courtesy to keep his expression neutral upon seeing the sleep-deprived, messy, cried-out woman.

"Yeah?"

"Your aunt Kate left you some of her possessions in her will. I'm here to deliver. Sign here, please."

The man very literally _shoved_ a clipboard and a pen into her hands, and Allison didn't feel like reading it over obsessively before signing, like her father had taught her. It didn't matter. Any objects that Kate had left her would go straight to Goodwill; she wanted nothing to do with any part of the woman who'd killed the love of her life. Except, as soon as she handed him the clipboard back, the guy in the uniform was picking up a heavy cardboard box and setting it down by the door. Which didn't alarm her. What did throw her completely off track was that he turned around, climbed into the back of the delivery truck, and brought along - about as gently as he'd handled the clipboard - a tall, very scowly, and very naked werewolf, red Alpha eyes glowing as he was shoved past the doorway.

So much for Goodwill.

\---

Derek was aware of all his surroundings, taking in the scents one by one to try to identify them. Bleach. Blood, very faint, probably imperceptible to anyone who wasn't a werewolf. Coffee. The human's scent, very vaguely familiar; he'd seen her in passing once or twice at the previous human's house - Kate's niece, if he heard correctly. Derek also noted she probably needed a good shower, sooner rather than later. Another Alpha's smell on her; judging by the far too big hoodie she wore, he could guess that's where it came from. All of these were completely secondary under the thick, potent stench of grief that surrounded her like a shield.

Great. If this girl actually missed her aunt as much as she seemed to, Derek wasn't looking at a much better future than he could have expected at Kate's.

The look of complete befuddlement on her face did nothing to make Derek even slightly more optimistic. The girl hovered around him for a long, lingering moment, looking him straight in the eye, then from head to toe, than back up. What, was she evaluating him or something? Maybe she'd be displeased and sell him off to a different family. possibly a kinder one. Except... There were no other werewolves in the undoubtedly wealthy house. Maybe the Alpha whose sweater she was wearing had left, or been sold in exchange for Derek, or killed. Either way, he highly doubted he'd be going anywhere soon, not if he was the only wolf. It didn't stop him from growling when she came near, even though he knew it couldn't possibly end well for him.

The growl didn't startle her. Instead, to add to Derek's confusion, she huffed out a little humorless laugh, her eyes very obviously sad as she looked up at the ceiling, seemingly trying to find an answer there.

"This is great, this is fucking _great_." The sarcasm was thick in her voice, and really, Derek absolutely agreed with her on that count. "This is some kind of sick cosmic joke, you know. I can't - okay, just hold on a moment."

Derek just lifted an eyebrow at her, because really, what else was he supposed to do?

"An Alpha." Her voice was softer when she spoke again after several deep breaths, still not looking at Derek, instead speaking to her own feet. "The first time I don't read a contract before signing, I end up owning an Alpha werewolf with his dick hanging out. _Fucking fantastic_."

Derek felt his cheeks burning at the comment, suddenly self-conscious. He barely noticed being naked anymore - clothes were for running errands when the other wolves in the house were busy, not for any other purpose - but having this complete stranger point it out wasn't exactly pleasant, especially because she seemed almost offended by his nudity. His body was fine, he thought defensively. He knew it because Kate would say it constantly - "damn near useless, but God, you're nice to look at". Maybe once he showed this girl his skills, she wouldn't find him unattractive.

"... whatever it is that fits you, 'cause I can't - I can't - are you even listening to me?"

He'd been too engrossed in his thoughts to hear the beginning of the sentence, and instinctively flinched away from the punishment that he was sure would follow. What he got instead was a loud sigh.

"Hey. Hey, look at me." The girl's voice was stern, but not angry, and it appeased Derek's anxiety somewhat. When he met her eyes, she continued. "What's your name?"

He blinked several times, then cleared his throat.

"Derek." His voice was rough from disuse.

"Okay, Derek. I'm Allison, and I'm about as happy with this situation as you are, but we just gotta suck it up. First order of business is clothes." She took a deep, shaky breath, and Derek wondered if it always took her so much effort to say a few sentences in a row. "You're gonna go into that bedroom down the hall. First dresser drawer is t-shirts, third is sweatpants. His jeans probably won't fit you, and it's gotta be uncomfortable as hell to wear jeans with no underwear." _His_? The Alpha who used to live there? "Grab whatever you want and get dressed. I can't really talk to you butt-naked like that."

Derek nodded, still unsure, and a little hurt. He wasn't in his best shape, sure, but he wasn't _that_ ugly. Maybe she just wasn't attracted to werewolves, or men, for that matter. Or, more realistically, he didn't need to be naked to use his mouth and fingers. Maybe that's what this was about?

He was about to open the bedroom door when he heard Allison's voice again, soft and quiet, from where she was curled up on the living room couch.

"Derek? Can you grab..." There was distinct embarrassment in her voice. "There's a pair of purple pajamas in one of the drawers under the bed, and underwear in the other. Can you get them for me? I can't- I need to shower, but I don't wanna go in there today."

Puzzled by both the hesitation and the request, he nodded once, then walked in.

\---

Allison was completely mortified, even as the wolf came out of the bedroom and dutifully handed her the fluffy purple pajamas and, well, the most uncomfortable lace panties she had. Purple too, she noticed, and somewhere in the back of her mind it registered as kind of hillarious that Derek had actually bothered to match the underwear to the color of her pajamas.

Which brought her back to being mortified, because _she had asked this complete stranger to get her underwear._ Because she was too much of a chicken to go get it herself. This wolf she knew nothing about had gone through her underwear drawer and - oh, God, he'd seen what else she kept there. She couldn't look at him, cheeks burning bright pink as she mumbled a 'thank you' and practically ran past him into the bathroom.

The shower made Allison feel a little less gross, a little more like herself, and it was marginally better. If she resolutely ignored the way the purple lace was determined to split her ass in two, anyway. _Big picture, Allison, look at the big picture_.

Derek, sure enough, was still standing awkwardly by the couch, Scott's sweatpants a little too short on him, and there was something oddly endearing about this angry-looking Alpha having chosen a Bugs Bunny t-shirt to wear. Allison remebered having borrowed that shirt to sleep in once or twice, and had to swallow hard, letting the memory settle in the back of her mind. She'd embarrassed herself enough already.

"So... Make yourself at home, I guess." She said, a little uncertain as to what exactly that meant for the wolf - hell, she didn't really know what it meant for her, either. Allison plopped down on the couch, making a vague hand gesture towards the rest of it in a silent invitation for him to join her.

She'd half expected him to want to sit on the floor.

What she absolutely, one hundred percent wasn't expecting was for the wolf to drop to his knees instead, facing her instead of the TV, and look like he'd rather be doing absolutely anything else while _reaching for the waistband on her pajamas and tugging it down._

"Derek!" She squeaked, reflexively slapping his hands away and pulling her legs up to her chest. "What the fuck? You don't- is this what you do to people you just met? Jesus fucking Christ!"

He looked like a kicked puppy, immediately lowering his head and recoiling like he'd just touched fire.

"I'm sorry, was that not- I assumed- I won't touch you again."

Allison didn't miss the way he was shaking slightly, but her heart was still pounding so hard she could almost hear it, so she gave herself another moment to catch her breath. He'd assumed that's what he was there for? But why would he? Allison obviously hadn't made any sort of move on him. Perhaps asking a werewolf to get your underwear was some sort of courting ritual she didn't know about? Or perhaps...

Oh, no.

Oh, _hell_ no.

Sure enough, the wolf was still on his knees, trembling a little and not daring to look anywhere but the floor. The pieces added up, and it made her feel sick, indignation churning in her stomach while she spoke as softly as she could.

"Derek, is that what she used to do? Were you some sort of wolfy sex slave to my aunt?" Jesus Christ, just saying the words made her nauseous, and it only got worse when Derek reluctantly nodded.

Allison had the urge to hug him, but that probably wouldn't end very well. Instead, she reached out and placed a careful hand on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen up under her touch - which, really, just made her want to hug him more. She was fully aware Kate had been an awful human being, but apparently, she'd had no idea just how awful she could get.

"It's not like that with me, okay? I'm not gonna try anything sexual with you. Like, _ever_." Derek whimpered at that, honest-to-God _whimpered_ , like the promise somehow made it worse. How the fuck could 'I'm not gonna rape you like my aunt did' - only phrased more gently - be a bad thing?

"Hey, what's the matter?" She asked with a little squeeze to the wolf's shoulder.

"Not really good for much else." Derek whispered forcefully, like the confession physically pained him. It made Allison's heart ache.

The wolf took a deep, shuddering breath, but didn't pull away from Allison's hand on his shoulder. That was a good sign, right? It had to be a good sign.

"Come up here." She said gently. "My aunt was fucking terrible, holy shit."

With an irritated look on his face - his eyebrows, really - Derek complied, perching uneasily on the edge of the couch. He looked her in the eye with an icy glare.

"You can't really think that if you miss her that much."

The possibility punched an incredulous little laugh out of Allison. In the gut. With a knife.

"Excuse me?"

"You reek of grief."

"Not for her!"

This werewolf's eyebrows sure seemed to do most of the talking for him, because right now Allison could read a very obvious _what the fuck_ on one, and an _explain yourself_ on the other.

"My boyfriend. It's his clothes you're wearing." And more quietly, with an aching chest, "She killed him."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence. An uneasy, lingering moment of silence, long enough that Allison reached for the remote and pressed play, dreading the moment she'd hear the now very familiar - and very, very annoying - 'I'm sorry for your loss'. She didn't. In fact, Allison didn't hear anything for a long time, just watched from the corner of her eye as the werewolf started to get a little more comfortable, some of the tension slipping away as he leaned back against the cushions.

She had no doubt this would be a long, hard process - both her recovery and Derek's. Neither of them would probably heal completely. But maybe, just maybe, it'd be more bearable to have someone to come home to instead of an empty house.

The fact that she knew absolutely nothing about this _eyebrow-lingual_ werewolf with the grumpy face and the pretty green eyes would just have to wait. Tonight she was exhausted, and he didn't seem much better, and the TV was enough distraction to keep most of the toxic thoughts at bay.

For now.

 


	2. Through Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, all my love and gratitude to Sarah, who feeds my angst addiction.

As the silence settled between them, Derek took his time processing what had just happened. 

Allison had scolded him for trying to serve his purpose and eat her out. She'd been shocked by it, _disgusted_ once she realized what he was doing, what he used to do to Kate. It could be because she didn't want someone as used up as him, wanted at least the illusion of a new, virginal wolf. Or she just missed her boyfriend, which Derek really had no empathy for; he'd never had that kind of attachment to someone - the kind of attachment that made sex an exclusive act. He knew it existed, saw it between Boyd and Erica - two of the other wolves Kate had owned, who were so ridiculously in love, they wouldn't touch any of the others even when their heats didn't coincide - but couldn't really empathize with something he had never experienced.

This brought up two very important points he was still having trouble making sense of. 

One, although Allison had been very clearly displeased with his actions, she hadn't punished him. In fact, despite having scolded him just a moment before, she'd actually tried to comfort him, like Erica - _like Laura_. The memory hurt, so he stopped it in its tracks, instead reverting to the second, most important point.

Her boyfriend had been an Alpha. 

Allison had obviously cared a great deal about him, enough to mourn him so intensely that the smell of sadness filled the entire room. His smell was all over the bedroom, too - he'd had his own dresser for clothes, and apparently slept in the same bed as Allison, if the scents were anything to go by. There had been sex there, definitely, but also something else, softer, the same kind of energy that Boyd and Erica gave off when they were together. It was faint, likely because it was a few days old, but definitely there, and it was... Most of all, really, really confusing.

Derek had no idea what to expect from this girl, where the lines were, how to brace himself - and what to brace himself for. She obviously didn't want him for the one thing he knew he was good at, so what did she want him for? Household chores? It could be; Derek was the only werewolf in the house, so he might be in charge of the cleaning and cooking. That wasn't too bad. Derek didn't use to mind the menial tasks, especially when doing them meant he'd have some peace and quiet, away from Kate and from the other wolves.

Except... Except she hadn't even wanted him at all, had she? She'd been legitimately surprised when he appeared at her door, needed several moments to collect herself upon realizing he was an Alpha, _explicitly stated_ that she didn't like the situation any more than he did. Then why had she taken him in, put clothes on him - her deceased boyfriend's clothes, no less - and made a conscious effort to put him at ease? She could easily just sell him off or trade him straight away. Even used and broken, a wolf previously owned by an Argent went for a lot in the market.

His thoughts were interrupted after a good half-hour of relative silence, by a tentative voice that sounded a lot like a child's.

"Is it okay if you sleep here tonight? On the couch? I'll get the stuff out of the guest room tomorrow."

She was keeping him? For good? He got _his own bedroom_?

"I'll take those eyebrows as a yes." She remarked, a faint shadow of a smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

In a moment she was getting up off the couch, walking past an uneasy Derek, and after some opening and closing of doors, came back with a pair of pillows in one arm and a pair of blankets in the other. Wordlessly, she handed him one of each, then moved to the smaller couch and wrapped herself in her blanket like a coccoon.

He could ask.

He wouldn't get punished for asking, right? If he didn't get punished for trying to take off his owner's clothes, he surely wouldn't get punished for asking a question.

The fact that his heart was jackhammering in his chest had absolutely nothing to do with it.

"Miss Argent?"

"Call me Allison." Her tone was gentle, putting Derek a little bit more at ease.

"What do you want from me?"

The answer didn't come right away. Derek paid close attention to her scent, her movements, searching for any sign that he had fucked up, but Allison stayed very still, apparently thinking it over for a long moment until she finally spoke.

"Company."

There was no uptick in her heartbeat. Somehow, that only confused him more.

"Not housework?" 

"I don't need a live-in wolf to change my sheets and sweep the floors. I pay an emancipated wolf twice a week to do the actual cleaning, and you and I will split the everyday stuff." The words came out harsh, and Derek had an urge to duck his head and apologize, but he didn't know what for. Asking the wrong question? Accidentally implying she needed a wolf to - well, she did. She was a human. Humans needed wolves to work for them, that was the structure. Without it, he'd be useless. A useless wolf is never kept for long.

The apology didn't slip out. Instead, what came was a bitter remark.

"I'm not good company."

In lieu of a response, Allison curled up a little tighter, her head resting on the pillow and her eyes focused on the TV instead of him.

"But you're here."

It still took the human about an hour to fall asleep. Derek knew, because he spent that hour very still and very, very anxious, not paying attention to the TV show but to her heartbeat.

This new owner seemed to be at better than Kate, but it was far, far too early to tell. Kate had been kind too, at the beginning, talked to him like he mattered, encouraged him to talk about his family and what he missed about them. She'd listened eagerly when he told her about how his parents were both emancipated, how his father worked long hours at the werewolf-only school two blocks down from where they lived, how his mother was a talented seamstress who worked from home, how his uncle was missing and his little sister was still too young to be sold. Laura had always told him to shut up, to be careful, but he didn't listen. He'd been pissed at his sister for even suggesting that Kate wasn't the sweet, understanding owner she seemed to be.

Until the day he and Laura woke up howling in the middle of the night, the primal feeling of _loss of pack_ making them run to their family home, only to see it being consumed by a vicious, raging fire. He vividly remembered wishing the flames would take him too.

Derek didn't even know how he ended up back in Kate's basement with the other wolves, clinging to Laura like a lifeline, crushed under the realization that he had caused his family's death - he'd told her their names, where they lived, where they worked, what time they were all home, even mentioned a few alternate ways to get in and out of the house. Laura had shushed him, held him close and spoken soft words of reassurance even though she was just as broken, grieving just as much.

The guilt never left him, but his sister did, three years later, in a fight with a bitten Alpha on his first full moon. All Kate did in response to their deaths was go online and order herself two brand-new wolves to make up for the loss.

They didn't. Not to Derek. Erica and Boyd were recently bitten wolves, both put on the market as soon as they turned fourteen - a week apart - and sold to Kate almost immediately. He taught them to control their shifts, albeit not gently, and in return they tried, really tried, to be like a stepbrother and stepsister to him. They weren't, but their presence was warm and soothing, to a certain degree. Derek wondered what had happened to them after Kate's death, and sincerely hoped they'd been sold to a better home.

Trusting Allison wasn't an option, not right away, probably not ever. Derek knew the odds were not in his favor. She might be just like her aunt, or worse, once she found out he really wasn't good company at all. She might be just a different kind of bad. Anything could happen.

And then there was the part of him - the part of him that chanted in his head every time Kate doled out a punishment, every time a fellow wolf gave him the side-eye, every time Boyd clapped a hand on his shoulder or Erica pulled him into a hug - that knew he didn't deserve any better than Kate. The part of him that spoke to him in nightmares and visions of dancing flames and charred bedrooms. The part that wanted, needed to be punished, for trusting Kate, for killing his family, for his very existence.

But right now, there was also silence, and the steady heartbeat of the sleeping human, and the utter exhaustion he felt down to his bones. So he rested the pillow against the arm of the couch, pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, and it only took him a minute to drift off.

\--- 

When Allison woke up at 3:19, gasping for air, the image of Scott dying seemed to be imprinted in the back of her eyelids. She couldn't shake it off. Derek was watching her intently from the bigger couch, green eyes sleepy and red-rimmed, and she couldn't do much besides shaking her head and trying for a smile that never actually made it to her lips. The wolf nodded like he understood. She went back to sleep.

When she woke up again at 5:48, she was well aware of her wet cheeks and heaving chest, tears still clinging to her lashes as she ducked her head under the blanket to hide herself completely, curling in on herself as if her legs might fall off if she didn't hold them tight to her chest.

The third time she woke up, it was 7:03, and she huffed out an exasperated breath as she sat up, officially deciding she'd had enough sleep already and it was time to get the day started. She had given herself a week to mourn and cry on her father's shoulder, and one night on the couch to avoid dealing with the loss, but it was enough. She wasn't weak. She was going to keep her head held high and do everything she had to do, because that was the way things went.

First of all, she needed a pen and a notepad.

\---

Derek slept surprisingly well, so much that he only awoke for a minute or two whenever the human would wake from what he could only assume were nightmares. By the time he actually rose to his feet - a glance at the big, ancient clock in the corner of the living room told him it was 8:25 - there was a lingering smell of coffee and waffle batter in the air, and it was hard not to get a little optimistic after a good night's sleep and the very likely possibility of a good breakfast.

He followed Allison's scent to the kitchen and found her pouring creamy batter into a waffle iron, completely oblivious to his presence, humming a song he couldn't identify. It was a drastic change from the Allison he'd met the previous night, idle and passive, but the look of sheer determination on her face as she did something as simple as making breakfast only confirmed what the lingering scent of grief already told him: she was using the 'fake it til you make it' approach, and honestly, Derek couldn't blame her.

He almost regretted pulling her away from the moment of serenity.

"Miss- sorry, Allison?" It was strange to call an adult human by their first name, but he was glad he could; it separated her from Kate a little more. Allison jumped a little at the interruption.

"Hey, good morning. You're stealthy." She greeted him with an embarrassed little chuckle.

"Where should I put the pillows and the blankets?"

"Oh, you can just stick them in the linen closet. Down the hall, second door on the left. Then come have breakfast with me. I mean, if you wanna."

Derek raised an eyebrow at her, but went to put the things away as she'd instructed. 'If you want to' wasn't something he heard very often, unless it was in a sentence like 'if you want to have lunch, you'd better get this done in time', and this was a welcome change - while it lasted, he had to remind himself. While he managed to stay on Allison's good side. Nothing good lasted too long - it shouldn't.

He sat obediently at the kitchen table, on the chair the human had indicated, eyeing the plate of waffles and the bottle of syrup a little warily. This girl was treating him like a guest. What was she even thinking? What was the catch here?

He only started to eat when Allison put a waffle on her own plate and drenched it in syrup before taking a small bite. Maybe there was no catch. Maybe she was being nice because she felt bad for him? That was a new one. Still, the coffee was nice and strong, the waffles were tasty, and Derek was definitely not in the mood to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As they ate in silence, a piece of paper beside the human's plate caught Derek's eye. Allison was eyeing it now and then, occasionally scribbling a word or two, and his curiosity got the best of him for a moment.

* * *

 

_Groceries_  
_BEDROOM_   
_Clean out guest room ASAP_   
_Laundry_  
_Kate box_  
_Mail stuff? Ask dad_  
_Fix buggy laptop_  
_~~Delay signing? Ask Lyds~~ confirm signing allison you are not a wuss jesusfuck_  
_Message Stiles + Isaac_  
  
_DUDE:_   
_Clothes?_  
_T+C?_  
_Heat????_  


 

* * *

"I made a to-do list. To get my head in the right place and stuff." Allison pointed at the list with a tilt of her chin, nibbling on a bite of waffle.

"I can see that." 

There was a faint hint of a smile pulling at the corners of Derek's lips, mostly from seeing himself referred to as ' _DUDE_ ' in all caps. That was definitely a new one. He wasn't sure if the items on the list were things Allison wanted to talk to him about, or just a reminder for her to do something about them - hence the many question marks after 'heat' - but he wouldn't push it. No good came from asking too many questions.

"I thought maybe we should go out today and get you some clothes. Some that actually fit you."

"And a collar?"

She stiffened visibly, and once again Derek found himself wondering if he'd asked the wrong quesiton. It had been on the list! Assuming 'T+C' stood for 'tag and collar', of course, but it was the only thing that made sense.

"Maybe. I mean..." She bit her lip, looking down. "I really don't want to. It's kind of degrading and gross. But I also don't wanna put you at risk because I'm clinging to a moral objection."

This time he felt brave enough to inquire further.

"What do you mean?"

"If you're not tagged and collared, anyone can take you and there's nothing I can do about it." She mumbled bitterly - so bitterly, in fact, that it gave Derek a clue.

"Is that what happened to Scott?"

Allison lifted her head, wide eyes indicating Derek was at least on the right track.

"I didn't tell you his name. How...?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"Oh." She swallowed hard. "Yeah, kind of. Kate wanted to take him. He got pissed. Next thing I know..."

Allison let the sentence float in the air, unfinished, and Derek felt a little sting in his chest for making her look like that - like she was about to break down crying.

So far, he'd been much less than ideal company; he'd scowled a lot, offered zero help when she woke up from two nightmares in the same night, and now made her cry within the first ten minutes of breakfast. Fucking wonderful. At this rate, he'd be thrown out of the house before the end of the week.

Truth was, he didn't really know how to comfort someone. Usually it had been Erica or Boyd doing it to him, and when they were the ones that needed it, they always relied on each other. Besides, just the thought of hugging a human - an Argent - like Erica used to hug him made his stomach churn.

Something smaller might be okay, though. Experimentally, he reached out a hand, not daring to take hers but leaving it on the table idly, his intention clear. It took her a quiet moment of hesitation, but just as he was about to pull back with an embarrassed frown on his face, Allison fit her small hand in his and gave it a light squeeze. The smile on her face was still forced and gloomy, but Derek would count it as progress.

It was almost surreal to feel himself starting to bond with Kate Argent's niece, the person who owned him, who could fuck him over at any moment and not have to explain a thing to anyone. Still... She had given him her boyfriend's clothes and made him breakfast and let him sleep until he woke on his own, and hadn't ordered him to pleasure her at all. In fact, she had made sure it didn't happen even when he tried to do it, and offered him some reassurance instead of punishment for misbehaving. 

The last figure of authority who had cared for him this much had been his mother, as he realized with a frown. And there was something else, something bigger, warming him up to this girl; the fact that she, too, had lost someone she loved to Kate. By the sound of it, she, too, felt responsible. Derek could empathize with that, knew just how much it hurt, and from what little he knew about Allison, figured she didn't deserve it.

"Thanks." She muttered quietly after a while, squeezing his hand once more before letting go.

He didn't answer, but hoped his eyes said enough - and from the way her gaze softened, they did.

\---

The day was long and busy, which Allison found to be a good thing; the more she occupied herself, the better. Derek was turning out to be a pretty nice companion, although quieter than she'd expected; all throughout running the easier errands they had exchanged long, oddly comfortable silences and sparse little bits of information about their lives. By the time they made it home with groceries for the house and new clothes for Derek - who had accepted them with a doubtful eyebrow-gesture but a shy little 'thank you' that made Allison warm up inside - they had become... Well, _acquainted_ wasn't exactly the right word.

When prople say tragedy brings strangers together, they forget to mention the bizzare part: if you bond through tragedy, you end up knowing the deeper, darker shit from that person's past but not the most basic details.

Allison didn't know if Derek had gone to school besides the government-sanctioned seven years - werewolves aged seven through fourteen were required to be in school, although forbidden from attending the same ones as humans - yet she knew that Kate had killed most of his family in a fire. Likewise, he knew that she was torn between wanting to protect him from the same fate as Scott, and not wanting to use the collar on him as a sign of forced submission. They both had a very similar way of addressing these situations: with a nonchalant voice, carefully avoiding the other's gaze, usually in the middle of doing something that could easily distract the conversation far away from the glimpses of painful subjects begging to rise to the surface.

It was only natural, then, that when they came home to the accusing bedroom door just waiting to be opened, Allison didn't blink or falter as she strutted towards it. Yes, she felt like she could pass out at any moment, and yes, she'd insisted on doing it alone and found herself immediately regretting it, but she would address this like she had everything else that day: clinically and with no emotion. She'd had an almost normal day - if your definition of  _normal_ includes taking a werewolf shopping for underwear, anyway - and maybe that meant she was doing better, right? Maybe cleaning Scott's every belonging out of their bedroom wouldn't hurt so much.

She was sick of crying. She'd given herself a week to cry as much as she wanted; now it was over.

It. Was. Over.

Holy shit, it was all over, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple notes...  
> 1) Don't expect updates this often! I'm just really excited about this fanfic and all the possibilities it brings.  
> 2) This chapter really, really isn't my best work, but bare with me, okay? I just felt like the story needed a little more establishing, and this could be a good way to do it. Next one shall be better. I promise. (I hope.)  
> 3) Thank you soooo much for the comments and kudos!


	3. Collared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up: this is a sad chapter.

The following two weeks went by a lot more smoothly than Allison had expected.

Cleaning out the bedroom she'd shared with Scott had been, admittedly, an excruciating task. She wasn't really able to do it all at once, but in two days, everything Scott had owned - except for a hoodie and three t-shirts - had been packed neatly into cardboard boxes and sent to Goodwill, with minimal help from Derek and a very acceptable amount of crying. Allison could have called up Stiles or Isaac or Lydia, sure, but she didn't want to; her friends were all dealing with it their own way. There was no need to make them feel worse. She could handle it by herself. She could! So what if she got no sleep that night? So what if the house felt empty and big and _wrong_ to the point where she spent a good two hours driving around aimlessly, just because the air in the house got too thick with loss and she felt like choking?

It still took her a few days to sleep on _their_ bed - their big, empty bed, not theirs anymore; it felt selfish to take up all the space - but she got there. Most nights, anyway. It got less hard eventually.

There wasn't much inside what she ominously dubbed the Kate Box. A ring that had belonged to Allison's great-grandmother, which she made a mental note to give to her father next time she saw him, and a few evening gowns that Allison used to like.

Allison immediately regretted not giving Derek a heads-up before opening the box, though. The wolf had been sitting on the living room floor reading a book - and Allison didn't know if it was conditioned or just a personal preference, but Derek actually seemed to prefer sitting on the floor instead of the furniture most of the time - but the second she opened the box, he had scrambled to his feet, claws out, ready to pounce.

Not that she minded when Derek tore the dresses to shreds within seconds, but he was very easily startled for the rest of the day, and Allison had to remind him twice that he could call her by the first name.

Still, with every last bit of Kate officially out of the house, the guest room cleaned out, and Allison's backup laptop fixed, Derek was visibly a lot more relaxed than he had been when he first came in. It was evident in the smallest actions - the way he no longer winced when Allison came close; how he spoke with a little more confidence; the small, easy, innocent touches that were slowly becoming their routine. It made Allison strangely proud that she could pat his shoulder or give his hand a little squeeze and he wouldn't flinch, would lean a little into the touch instead, as long as it didn't surprise him. Which was a little ironic, since Derek was officially the stealthiest werewolf Allison had ever seen.

And it was honestly kind of adorable that one day she came home from an afternoon with Lydia to find him sprawled out on the living room floor, on his stomach, laughing his ass off at some comedy skit on Youtube. Allison quickly filed it as one of her new favorite sounds.

Not that all this progress meant the wolf was any less quiet, but at least the silence helped her focus enough to try and write something. Even though she ended up erasing most of it; when you write children's fantasy books for a living, you need to be in a certain state of mind to get things done, and as much as things were definitely getting easier, Allison wasn't quite back to that state yet. She would be at some point. Just not yet.

She was actually in the middle of trying to find a fitting name for a main character - you could honestly think she was either pregnant or a little crazy from the amount of baby name websites she had bookmarked - when the doorbell rang, startling both her and the werewolf in the kitchen.

\---

One moment Derek was pouring water in a pot to boil vegetables, the next all his senses were alert as the doorbell and a very dimly familiar scent caught his attention.

_Okay, Hale, assess the situation. Person's heartbeats are steady. Allison's got really fast for a moment, but she was probably just startled; no smell of fear anywhere. It's fine. Kate didn't smell like fear either when she had someone over to share me with, but Allison's not like that. Not at all. Doesn't seem like it, at least. It's fine. I'm safe. No big deal._

_Hands. Will. You. Stop. Fucking. Shaking._

"Dad!" Allison's voice called out from the hallway, filled with fondness, and Derek had a brief flashback of himself and his two sisters rushing to greet their father when he came home from work. She really did sound like a child in her enthusiasm.

Derek stayed in place, still holding the pot of water on the stove, unsure of what the protocol was for when Allison had guests over. He'd met Ethan and Aiden, the wolves who came over to do the cleaning every Tuesday and Friday, but that was different - those were werewolves. Emancipated werewolf workers who had belonged to the family since Allison was a child, but werewolves nonetheless, a pair of betas to whom Derek didn't owe anything but basic respect. This guest was not only human; he was his owner's father, and although the twins had mentioned he was as kind to werewolves as his daughter, Derek wasn't willing to take any chances. Allison had been great so far, but from every conversation they'd had, Derek had gathered one thing: she was very fiercely protective of the people she held dear. He doubted it'd take long for the other shoe to drop if he didn't show the girl's father the appropriate respect.

So he remembered what Kate had taught him and dropped to his knees on the tile floor, back straight, wrists crossed behind his back, and his head bent in submission. _Just like this, pup. First you present respectfully, then you get permission to stand and go do what you need to do. See, it's not hard. Straighten up, I didn't pay ninety grand for a hunchback. Did I give you permission to look me in the eye like that? Like I'm your bitch of a sister? Show some fucking respect!_

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and in a moment Derek was looking at a pair of feet.

"Allison, what part of this would you say is progress?" The man sounded annoyed, but there was no anger in his scent, which was a relief in itself. He didn't really understand the displeasure in the words, but kept to himself, eyes trained on the floor as he heard his owner approaching... And there it was, sudden anger spiking her scent, sending Derek into hyper-alert mode. Shit, shit, shit. He was doing it wrong. Again. Surely Allison was tired of him fucking up already. He tried to keep his back as straight as possible, eyes shut tight, ears picking up the slightest movements.

"I didn't think it was possible to hate her more, you know." She huffed out an exasperated sigh, and once again, Derek was confused, completely at a loss for what to do. He braced himself for the oncoming hit, but instead Allison was crouching in front of him, the anger in her scent rapidly melting into... Guilt?

He could hear the man tapping his foot behind her, a lot more persistently angry than Allison had been, but tried to focus on the girl. She owned him, not her father. It'd make his life a lot easier if he could please both, but Allison was the priority.

"Derek?" Her voice was soft, undemanding, and she held out a hand to him - palm up, slowly, like he was a cornered animal. "Why are you kneeling like this?"

Derek could feel the embarrassment burning at his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I thought- I thought I was supposed to present first." _You don't wanna look like you're challenging them, do you, puppy?_ "I didn't mean to offend either of you."

"Jesus Christ." Mr Argent huffed. "I don't even wanna know. Get up, Derek, you don't have to present to anyone."

His heartbeat showed sincerity, but Derek still looked at Allison for confirmation, relieved at her little nod as their eyes met. There was nothing but concern and affection in the big, brown eyes, so genuine it was intimidating, making Derek want to duck his head for a whole different reason.

"Come on. Get up. My dad's gonna have dinner with us."

Standing up was easy, with Allison's hand held tight in his like an anchor. Looking the man in the eye and not being embarrassed wasn't.

"Mr Argent." He nodded dutifully.

"Chris." The man held out a hand, which Derek eyed suspiciously for a moment before taking in a hesitant handshake. That was now the second adult human in the Argent family - the same family that birthed Kate - to greet him like an equal, and it honestly baffled him.

So did the suspicious glare he directed at Derek and Allison's linked hands.

For the moment, Derek decided to just give up on understanding them altogether, and instead focused on the much easier task of throwing the peeled potatoes and broccoli into the boiling pot, assuring both Argents that he'd take care of dinner so they could go talk in the living room. He didn't pay much attention to the conversation, very engrossed in the task of making a good meal to make up for having made a huge idiot of himself earlier, but what little he did overhear made very little sense. Things about Allison being stubborn and obligations and Chris making assumptions. Yeah, it was definitely better to ignore it; Derek wouldn't understand anyway.

\---

By the time the three of them sat at the table, the air between Allison and her father was very noticeably tense. She stole a few glances at Derek, who just ate quietly, very seldom meeting her eyes but seeming relaxed enough.

She was going to ease into the topic. She was. She was going to talk to Derek very calmly about what they had been determinedly avoiding ever since he arrived, and make sure he understood why it had to happen.

Her father had other plans.

"So Derek, you do know you need a collar, right?"

Both Allison and Derek turned their gaze to him in surprise. The question had sprouted out of a long moment of silence, with no warning, making Allison choke on her stew.

"Dad! Now?"

"You're avoiding it. If we don't talk about it now, I doubt you'll bring it up after I leave. There's always gonna be an excuse, and the next thing you know is someone will try to snatch this one up too."

The unspoken words stung more than the ones that did make it up. It was very clear what her father was implying - Scott had died due to _her_ irresponsibility, _her_ stubborn need to cling to morals that meant very little in the real world, where werewolves were property and she had refused to claim hers. Degrading as it was, the collar was a form of protection, in its own twisted way. And she had denied him that protection. She was the reason Scott was dead.

It took her a moment and a deep breath to collect herself.

"What my dad is very subtly trying to say" she shot him a glare before turning her gaze back to Derek, softening slightly. "... Is that no matter how gross I think it is to claim someone as your own property, this is a matter of safety."

Derek nodded with a guarded stare. Allison couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not, so she kept talking.

"So tomorrow I'm- I'm going out to get you one. If you wanna come along and pick it out, you can. I just really want you to know I wish I didn't have to do this, okay? I just... I don't wanna lose you." The _too_ was implicit.

The wolf nodded stiffly again, his expression indecipherable, not even the oh-so-talkative eyebrows giving any indication of how he felt about the topic. Not very well, apparently, because he turned to his plate and didn't speak another word beyond what was absolutely necessary.

Well, shit.

\---

When Allison got home the next day, she was tense and serious, and it put Derek in an equally squirmy state. Granted, that was mostly his fault - he was the one who had shut down completely ever since a collar had been brought up. Derek himself wasn't quite sure where all that resistence was coming from. He'd been bracing for a lot worse ever since he got there, for crying out loud. A collar and a tag shouldn't be that big a deal.

Even if Allison had been telling the truth - about feeling that it was degrading, about not wanting to lose him the same way she'd lost Scott - there was still something wrong there. Something missing.

Allison had told him it never even occurred her to collar Scott. She had found him in the woods, lost and wild, and taken him home as an equal, as a partner, a lover, a friend. Derek was none of those things. He'd been brought into the girl's home uninvited, practically shoved into her hands, against both their wishes. They weren't friends, or equals, and nothing even close to lovers - he was a family heirloom, and Allison owned him. She wanted to look after him so that she wouldn't lose any more of her property. There was no doubt she cared about him and wanted to keep him safe, but as a pet she needed to take care of, nothing else. There couldn't be anything else. Derek was a werewolf, and the kindness he got from Allison and now Chris was already much more than he could have expected, much more than he probably deserved.

Derek wasn't Scott, would never be the wolf his owner really wanted, the one that knew how to greet guests and didn't startle her and was allowed to do all the things Derek knew how to do but Allison wouldn't let him - not that he wanted to, really, but it was one sure way to please a disgruntled owner and be a good wolf. At most, he was a cheap replacement.

Still... It sure had been nice to pretend for a while. He had his own bedroom, his own phone and laptop, sat at the table with the human for meals they sometimes cooked together, and for two whole weeks, it almost made him forget the hierarchy. Made him feel special, almost loved.

The collar shattered that illusion, and he knew he didn't have the right to be mad at Allison for reinforcing something that had never stopped being true, but as long as he didn't disrespect her, Derek figured he could be as bitter as he wanted. So he was. He sat on the floor, both earphones in, not completely drowning out Allison's 'hey' and 'I bought your collar' and 'I'm sorry' over the sound of the video. He didn't answer or acknowledge her words, all the while his heart thumped loudly, still half expecting a punishment that wouldn't come, half hoping it actually would.

"Derek." The tone in Allison's voice was serious now as she came closer and pulled one of the earbuds off his ear, not exactly harshly but not half as careful as she usually was. "We have to do this anyway, so the sooner, the better, okay?"

"Okay."

It wasn't okay, but it wasn't like she'd understand.

Allison crouched down to meet his eyes, but he stubbornly looked down at his own knees instead. She sighed as she held out the collar for him to see; a thin strip of black leather lined with soft velvet, the silver clasp engraved with the Argent family crest and Allison's initials. She seemed to have put an effort into making it look nice, which didn't do much to make Derek feel better, but at least she was trying. Derek nodded curtly and stayed very still, baring his neck to let Allison put it on him.

The clasp, like on any standard werewolf collar, was laced with mountain ash, a measure taken so that no werewolf could untag him or herself without tearing the collar and risking damage to their own throat in the process. It smelled sickening. Derek knew he'd get used to it again soon, but the faint smell of ash and leather brought him back to Kate's, back to when she had secured his very first collar around his fifteen-year-old neck, back to when he still trusted the woman who would later take away everyone he loved.

As soon as it was on, Derek jerked away from the contact roughly, grabbing his laptop and rushing to the bedroom without so much as a glance to Allison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is HEAVILY inspired by a few others I've read that handled the whole 'slavery AU' thing probably a lot better than me. I'll be compiling a list and recommending them on the next chapter's author's note, so you guys can go show your love to those amazing writers. :)


	4. Chapter Two

_Admin changed group name to "Chapter 2"_

_Admin removed Scott McCall_

**Stiles** : Ouch.

**Isaac** : I know. But it was necessary. His name was just... Staring at me.

**Allison** : You're right. It sucks, but you're right.

**Stiles** : Hey Al, can you give me your dad's number?

_Allison shared a contact - Christopher Argent_

**Allison** : Why do you need it?

**Stiles** : I have to do some off-the-clock investigation. We're at a dead end on the Whittemore case, and your dad's methods are a little more drastic than what my job allows. But boy, does he get the job done.

**Isaac** : Still no sign of the wolves?

**Stiles** : All four of them. A whole family, man. Disappeared. Poof. And I've met the owner. He's a bit of a dick to everyone, but they had a pretty okay life, all things considered. I don't think they'd run away.

**Allison** : Especially not with two kids under 14.

**Stiles** : Exactly. You never know who they could end up sold to. I've seen some shit.

**Allison** : You're telling me. Derek was 15 when my aunt got her nasty ass hands on him.

**Isaac** : Speaking of which, how is he?

**Allison** : Still hates me for collaring him. I kinda hate me too. He's not a dog.

**Isaac** : You didn't do it to mark a difference, you did it to keep the Kates of the world away. He'll be fine.

**Allison** : Sure hope so. It's been even quieter than usual around the house.

**Stiles** : We could come over, fill the silence a little. I'm totally not asking just because you have a huge TV and I bought a bunch of new Wii games. Nope.

**Isaac** : Plus the fancy popcorn maker thing.

**Allison** : I'm glad you like me for me, guys. Real inspiring. :')

**Isaac** : Shut up, you know we love you. Your cool house is just a bonus.

**Allison** : I know, I know. I'm gonna be signing books all afternoon, but you guys should totally come tonight.

**Lydia** : I'm in.

**Isaac** : She lives!

**Lydia** : Yeah, I was at a meeting. Same meeting as a certain Officer Stilinski, who won't. Get. Off. His. Phone.

**Stiles** : Pot calling the kettle black.

**Lydia** : I literally JUST picked it up.

**Stiles** : Irrelevant.

_Isaac sent an image - irrelephant.jpg_

**Allison** : Okay, we've officially descended into meme territory. I'll see you weirdos tonight.

**Lydia** : You love us.

_Allison sent an image - irrelephant.jpg_

\---

It had been a few days, but Derek's mood hadn't improved much.

Rationally, he knew that Allison didn't have a choice. That it was the safest option for him, too - very few people, be they human or wolf, dared to mess with the Argent family and their property. And sure enough, he had caught the strong scent of remorse when she clasped the collar around his neck.

It didn't stop him from feeling like he was fifteen again, pliant and obedient in the hands of a woman who soothed him and held his hand, but would eventually break him until he barely knew what was right or wrong anymore.

_It's not like that. She likes me. She wants my company. She even helps me cook and doesn't want me to do anything in bed. She doesn't want to hurt me. I'm safe. It's different here._

Then again, she was still mourning Scott, not entirely back to her usual self - the one Derek didn't know yet. There was no telling what the future held for him, not this soon. The collar around his throat had been the first step towards acknowledging his status, his position as a somewhat high-ranking wolf but still far below a human in the best of circumstances. Who knew if she'd stop there? Who was to say she wouldn't like to mark the difference a little more, take a little advantage here and there, not even realize it until the situation had escalated and Derek was breaking all over again?

As much as he was starting to genuinely care for Allison, there was no way to pretend they could be anything but a wolf and his owner. She and Scott had been different, but Derek was collared, legally owned, once again bearing the Argent crest on his neck.

Derek's phone buzzed once beside him, the loud noise against the hardwood floor startling him out of his thoughts.

**Allison** : Just got out of the bookstore. My friends are coming over soon. You're welcome to hang out with us, but it's okay if you wanna stay in your room.

**Derek** : OK.

**Allison** : Do we have sodas or should I stop by the store on my way back?

**Derek** : Half a bottle of coke.

**Allison** : Kay, thanks. Oh, and Isaac sent me this. Thought you might be interested. www.howlnetwork.org

**Derek** : OK.

He still glared at the phone for a good two minutes before finally giving in to his curiosity and typing the address onto his laptop.

As it turned out, the Howl Network was apparently a werewolf-only forum for survivors of abuse - or, as the header put it, 'a safe space for recovery'. Derek was well aware that the 'werewolf-only' bit was bullshit; if anyone could access it, he could bet there were plenty of humans lurking around the forum. Still, it seemed like an interesting place. He doubted he'd be posting anything anytime soon, but maybe it'd be good to read about other werewolves' experiences with situations similar to his own. Maybe he'd find answers there, to questions he still wasn't sure how to put into words.

\---

There was a glaring absence in the room, one that all four humans were making valiant attempts to drown out with voices that were a little too loud, hand gestures a little too big, as if that would fill the obviously empty space. They could pretend it worked until it did, and being together made it much, much easier.

Watching Stiles and Lydia bicker while they raced on the screen and giggling about it with Isaac helped, too.

"How much do you hate me right now?" Lydia nudged at Stiles' waist with her elbow, a sly smirk on her face.

"You can kindly eat my ass." He grumbled back.

"Maybe later, baby, right now I'm kicking it."

Isaac and Allison laughed. The couple's argument was a lot more interesting than the battle on the screen; both of them far too competitive for their own good. But there was no venom in the words, just fondness, and a slightly pouty Stiles handing the controller to Allison when Lydia finally beat him.

"Hot girl who's also a surprisingly scary cop _and_ can whoop your ass at Mario Kart? Marry her, dude." Isaac grinned at Stiles, who smirked.

"Nah, she only wants me for my body."

"Not true!" Lydia gave him a quick peck on the lips before clicking the start button on the screen, her smile growing wider. "I want you for your body _and_ your cooking skills."

"Takes very little to make you happy, doesn't it? As long as I keep making you pancakes and doing my job in the bedroom..."

"Doing your job?" Lydia arched a brow at him without averting her eyes from the screen.

"Would you rather I call it something more explicit? 'Cause I can." Stiles' mischievous little smirk got a laugh out of the other three.

"I really, really wish you wouldn't."

"Oh, come on, Isaac. I'm a gentleman. You know I'm not gonna share any of the juicy details."

"You'd better not, or you'll be out of a job for a long time." The threat sounded serious, but there was a smirk on the redhead's lips.

Stiles shrugged and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Like you can resist me."

"You guys are sickeningly adorable, you know that?" Allison remarked, which made Isaac huff.

"Oh, like it's any less diabetes-inducing to watch you and Sc-"

Everyone froze momentarily, except for Allison, who stayed very stubbornly focused on the game. There was a long, awkward silence following Isaac's comment, the only sound in the room coming from Lydia's Yoshi falling off the road and Allison's Mario cheering in victory.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." Allison forced out a smile, determined not to make a big deal out of the situation - especially because Isaac was making those big, sad puppy eyes at her, looking like a scolded child. Her smile didn't seem to do much to reassure him, but Stiles chimed in.

"Look, we're not gonna magically be okay with him being gone." He sighed, and Lydia squeezed his hand firmly. "We all miss him, and it sucks, but it's not gonna hurt any less if we avoid talking about him like it's something forbidden. I mean... He was with me my whole damn life, if you don't count those few months after he got bitten. He and Al had a fairytale love story. You guys knew him like the back of your hands, too. It wouldn't make sense if his name suddenly became taboo with us. It's like Isaac said, chapter two, right? Doesn't mean chapter one stops existing."

It seemed like getting the words out took a lot of Stiles' energy, because as soon as he was done talking, he slumped back on the couch, bringing Lydia with him with an arm around her shoulders. She settled against his chest, and Allison watched the action in silence. It was endearing, drowning out a bit of the bitterness in the air.

"He'd be kicking Allison's ass a lot better than me at this, you know." Isaac joked tentatively as he started the game, and even if the laugh he got from the other three was a little forced, it was okay.

Allison had missed this kind of closeness. They hadn't all hung out together since a week or two before Scott died, and it felt safe and comfortable, even under the still present weight of the werewolf's absence. She needed it more than she'd thought, this part of her life going back to normal - or more accurately, adapting to a new normal, a new phase, chapter two.

She'd never again see Stiles smack his best friend with the nearest non-harmful object after a particularly bad pun, but Stiles still got carried away with the dumb jokes sometimes, and then he'd blush a little, and it was adorable. There would be no more driving Isaac and Stiles to places while Lydia rode with Scott on his motorcycle, half panicked and half exhilarated, arriving earlier than the group with slightly less than perfect hair and a matching set of big smiles. But the four of them could still have fun in the car together, singing loudly and off key just like they used to. And maybe nobody was quite as good at Scott at making Isaac stop feeling guilty about small mistakes, but after Isaac excused himself to go to the bathroom, he came back and sat on the floor, with his back pressed to Allison's legs and his head leaning back against her knees. Her hand dropped to his hair almost instinctively, playing with the soft curls in slow, lazy motions that were soothing for the both of them.

They'd be okay.

\---

By the time the humans left, Derek had already read through countless stories on the Howl Network, only stopping to get himself some of the pizza in the living room when Allison called. He remembered two of the humans in the room, the young police officers who had escorted him and the other wolves out of Kate's house after her death, and knew they were reasonably nice. The one whose hair Allison was caressing was a complete stranger, though. Derek didn't feel like socializing, and was glad his owner didn't tell him to, instead just offered him a tentative smile when he took his plate.

There had been several stories like his own in the forum. Werewolves who had been betrayed by seemingly good owners, or whose owners had been awful from the start; some of the posts were long rants detailing every cruel punishment endured by the wolf, followed by supportive messages and kind words of encouragement from others. A surprising number of other people were still in those abusive situations, unable to get out, and turned to the forum for support and advice on how to deal with it and make it more bearable. There were plenty of resources; detailed posts about how to care for wounds that won't heal, non-harmful ways to take out aggression, even a wolf-exclusive hotline to call in case of an emergency. A chatroom, too, though Derek seriously doubted he'd be entering it in the foreseeable future.

It made him feel a lot better. The chance of Allison turning on him wasn't any smaller, but it was very comforting to know that if she ever did, he had somewhere to turn. He wasn't completely alone. It gave him a small sense of security, enough that he could go tend to the next pressing issue.

Well, not so much a pressing issue as just something he really, really wanted. It was okay to ask for things he wanted, Allison always said that. Sure, she had every right to say no - he definitely would, if the person had been half as surly as him in the past few days - but if he never asked, it definitely wouldn't happen.

Which is why he ended up in the living room, standing awkwardly by the couch, where Allison had been typing away on her laptop and was now staring inquisitively at him. Derek was very aware of how red his cheeks were, and Allison seemed to find it funny.

"What's the matter?" She asked with a little smile - not mocking, just amused.

"I... When your friends were over, the blond one was..." Derek scratched at the back of his neck, very self-conscious. He was a smart, well-read werewolf. He started going to school at four and only left at fifteen. He really shouldn't have so much trouble with the words. "I was wondering if it's okay for me to do the same?"

Allison eyed him in confusion for a long moment before it seemed to dawn on her, and much to Derek's relief, her smile grew wider and she nodded.

As a born wolf, it was in Derek's nature to be very tactile. With Kate, touching made him feel more than a little disgusted, but that didn't mean he stopped craving that sort of innocent, wordless comfort; the kind he would always find in Erica and Boyd and Laura. He'd never expected to get it from a human - but now, as he sat on the floor and tilted his head back to rest on Allison's knees, it wasn't threatening. It wasn't gross. It was... Surprisingly relaxing.

"Is this a peace offering?" Her voice was soft and sweet, making Derek's eyes slip shut instinctively as she carded her fingers gently through his hair. He hadn't realized how much he missed this, how much he needed it.

"It's an apology. And a thank-you."

"For what?" Short fingernails on his scalp, caressing gently. He was pretty sure he'd be purring if he'd been in wolf form.

"The apology, for being a brat these days. The thank-you..." _For taking care of me. For not minding when I doubt you. For trying to understand, even if you don't. For not touching me unless I let you._ "... For that forum. It helped."

Allison's heartbeat increased a little, and for a moment Derek was worried that he'd said something wrong, but her touch on his skin remained tender, and she smelled happy, so he couldn't have messed up too bad.

"The internet is a wonderful place for this kind of thing." She chuckled, keeping the tone light. "I've been looking for some help online too. It's a little more indirect, but does the trick."

"Another forum?"

Allison laughed a little. "Roleplaying. Sort of like the virtual, grown-up version of playing with dolls."

Derek opened his eyes curiously.

"How does that help?"

"It's easier to talk about how you're feeling and the things that bother you if you're saying it through a fictional character. Plus, it helps me get into the right mindset to write."

A moment of comfortable silence lingered between them, and Derek was already slipping back into that floaty, blissful headspace when he felt the human's fingers trace a path down his neck, trailing along the collar.

Allison's tone was just as careful as her touch when she spoke.

"Do you resent me for this?"

"No." Derek answered quickly, the soothing contact making it easier to be sincere. "I don't like it, but I get it. It's okay."

"I'm really glad you get it." She breathed out, sounding honestly relieved.

Derek could have left it that way. It was good, much better than he'd expected already, to find this much comfort in a human. Yet he found himself speaking again, the confession slipping easily off his lips before he could even realize what he was saying.

"I wanna trust you."

Allison took a moment to respond.

"You can. But it's okay that you don't. Takes time."

"Do you trust me?" He asked softly.

"I don't have a reason not to."

It wasn't a yes, but it was enough.

"So... Tell me more about this roleplaying thing."

And just like that, their conversation shifted to lighter topics; Allison went on and on about roleplaying etiquette and how rude it was for someone to exchange email addresses but never write back, and he told her how he remembered reading her first published book, and enjoying it even though he was way older than the intended audience. It felt nice, easy; he hadn't talked this much and this freely in years.

Derek knew it probably wouldn't last, but for the rest of the night, with his head nestled on Allison's knees and the soft caress of her hands, he finally felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanted fluff? I gave you fluff!
> 
> As promised, the edited author's note with the three fanfics this was heavily inspired by. These are all incredibly talented authors, and you really should go read these stories and go show them some love. :)
> 
> [Desolate](http://archiveofourown.org/series/48562) by the wonderful Vague_Shadows - this fanfic is honestly the most thoroughly well-written story I've read in years, and the author is an absolute sweetheart. Warning - it will tear out your heart and rip it to shreds, and you will thank her.
> 
> [Want is a Dangerous Thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/705816) by grimm - lovely, short, and doesn't break your heart too much.
> 
> [These Four Walls](http://archiveofourown.org/works/768403/chapters/1440846) by pandabomb - beautifully written, with twists and a bittersweet ending that will make you question a lot of things deep within your soul.


	5. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porn, but this chapter contains sexual things. Proceed accordingly.

**Thread: Heat help?**

**Posted by MilliSmiles9 at 9:32**

Hey guys. It's my first time posting here, but I need a little help. I'm 15 and the only wolf in the house. I've been feeling pretty sick lately; I looked up the symptoms and it looks like I'm going into my first heat. I don't know what to expect or what to do about it. I don't HAVE to mate with someone to make it go away, right? How long does this last? How often should I expect it? Thanks!

\---

**Posted by cest-la-vicky at 11:10**

Milli, you absolutely don't have to mate to make the heat symptoms go away. You're gonna suffer quite a bit without a partner, not gonna lie - if you're bitten and you ever had a high fever when you were human, that's kind of how it feels. Plus, you won't even be thinking clearly for about two days; all you'll want to do is get off. Don't let your owner(s) take advantage of your heat if you can help it! It goes away after day two, and then you're just kind of exhausted. Omegas usually have eight or nine heats a year; Alphas, about four or five, and betas can really go anywhere from one to twelve. Good luck...

\---

**Posted by RadDan77 at 11:38**

If you're the only wolf in the house, I advise talking to your owner about the possibility of heat suppressants. They don't take the symptoms away completely, but you'll just be a little bothered, nothing that'll cause too much discomfort or cloud your judgement.

If for any reason you can't take them, you should probably spend that time locked up to avoid any unpleasant encounters with your owner. Remember to eat plenty of protein and stay hydrated, it's gonna be a rough couple of days.

\---

**Posted by SeeYouInHale at 1:43**

On the other hand, let's be realistic, this is a forum for abused wolves. If by any chance the human is ALREADY mating with you anyway, this is gonna be the only time you'll actually enjoy it.

\---

**Posted by K_ali55 at 1:50**

@SeeYouInHale don't scare the poor girl. Sorry that happened to you, though. (Presumably.)

\---

**Posted by SeeYouInHale at 2:14**

@K_ali55 thank you. I'm not trying to scare anyone, just offer some consolation on a worst-case scenario.

@MilliSmiles9 hope you weren't offended by that.

\---

**Posted by MilliSmiles9 at 3:09**

@SeeYouInHale @K_ali55 My owner isn't THAT terrible, thank God, but don't worry, you didn't scare or offend me. I'm well aware that happens pretty often, especially to younger wolves like me.

@cest-la-vicky Thanks for the info. And I'm a beta. Hoping for just one heat a year, then...

@RadDan77 I'll talk to my owner about the medicine. Thank you :)

\---

**New private message!**

**From: RadDan77**

Hey, I saw your reply on that post about heat and wanted to remind you that if you're still stuck in an abusive situation, there are plenty of self-care resources in the forum. Also, if you ever need to rant or something, hit me up.

**Reply to RadDan77**

Thank you. The human who did that to me is dead, thank God. I've had a new owner for a couple months now, and she's very emphatic about not doing anything sexual with me. I /am/ a little worried that my heat is right around the corner, though. There's no other wolves in the house, and even if I were to start taking suppressants, it'd be too late for it to work on this upcoming heat.

**New private message!**

**From: RadDan77**

There's nothing wrong in mating with your human if it's something you both want. Just remember to be safe. Believe me when I say you /don't/ want to make a werebaby by accident.

**Reply to RadDan77**

She refuses to let me do anything in this department, though. Says she's not like my former owner and doesn't want me to feel like I /have/ to.

**New private message!**

**From: RadDan77**

Well, if you make it clear that you actually /want/ it...

\---

For the first time in his life, Derek had absolutely no idea how to handle his heat. And he knew it was coming, could feel his skin start to grow hotter and more sensitive, his shift control wavering ever so slightly; the next day, he'd probably be hard all day and not thinking clearly at all.

Back at Kate's, admittedly, it was a lot easier to go about it. All the other wolves in the house got their release only from each other, but Derek spent at least a part of his own heat time in Kate's bedroom. And although at any other time he dreaded touching her, his instincts kept screaming to mate - with anyone, really; he'd already wake up hard and aching and desperate for any kind of release - and she was there.

There was nothing tender or careful about it. She took it like she always did - demanding, impatient, reminding him that _if you really didn't like fucking me, you wouldn't be enjoying yourself so much now, would you?_ And he was very aware of how ashamed he'd be when his hormones subsided, how he'd hate himself for hating it the next time she made him do it, but only when the haze in his brain cleared.

After Kate climbed off of him, he was barely aware of anything, stumbling his way back down to the basement on shaky legs before collapsing on his bunk bed. Three or four hours of deep slumber later, he'd wake up hard and impossibly hot again, body begging for a new release. Sometimes he'd wander back up to look for Kate. Sometimes she was busy, or wasn't home, and one of the other wolves would take pity on his state and use their mouth to get him off.

Be it from his owner or from another werewolf, or even those few times Kate shared him with a friend or two, he always got his relief. Heats were still intensely uncomfortable, like they were for pretty much any werewolf, but when he was sated and asleep for hours at a time, two days went by fast enough.

Now, what the hell was he supposed to do with Allison?

Nowadays she touched him freely and easily, and it was such a refreshing change of pace from the careful awkwardness of that first week. More importantly, she didn't smell like grief anymore - Derek knew she still missed Scott and probably always would, just like he missed Erica and Boyd and his family, but it wasn't a constant sadness anymore, which he'd count as progress.

If she was already past the mourning stage, and Derek made sure she knew he wasn't trying to mate with her because he felt coerced or obligated... RadDan77 had made a good point. There was nothing wrong with it. Derek knew enough about Allison to know she wouldn't begin to expect or demand sex from him afterwards; she'd been in a steady relationship with a wolf and would know how bad heats could get. Surely she would know that just because his hormones made him crave it, it didn't mean he'd still want it when the heat went away. He knew she wasn't celibate, either; on his very first night at the house, when Allison asked him to retrieve her clothes from the bedroom, he noticed the fading smell of sex in the room and a not at all subtly hidden vibrator in her underwear drawer.

He didn't know what she liked, but it couldn't be too hard to figure out - could it? Allison clearly didn't want to dominate him like Kate had, but she didn't see him as a lover, either; not the way Boyd and Erica saw each other. There had been a powerful connection between the two betas; something warm and buzzing with energy, clear for everyone to see. It wasn't like that between Derek and Allison. On the other hand, he definitely, _definitely_ shouldn't approach her the way he and the other wolves approached each other when one of them was in heat - no questions asked, no words, just instinct - not only because it'd probably freak her out, but also because there was still a power imbalance between them, even if Allison didn't like to acknowledge it. He couldn't just come up to a human - his _owner_ \- and press her up against the wall. No matter how tempting the idea was beginning to sound.

\---

Stiles and Lydia's three-year anniversary was celebrated at a very fancy restaurant, with drinks and laughter and the most endearing fake proposal Allison had ever seen - they told the group later that Stiles had proposed privately, at home, but they had been wearing pajamas and gobbling down popcorn, and Lydia wanted to give it the proper impact. So at the party, after quite a few bottles of champagne, Stiles had gotten down on one knee and squeezed a surprising amount of inside jokes into a very sweet speech. Everyone was grinning and clapping proudly when he slid the ring onto Lydia's finger, and she pulled him into a fiery kiss that was caught in several cell phone cameras.

Allison and Isaac followed the happy couple to their apartment afterwards, a more private reunion where all the composure went away - Lydia and Allison's high heels forgotten in a corner of the living room, Stiles and Isaac's ties flung over the back of a chair, solo cups filled with vodka and juice instead of tall glasses of champagne - and the four never seemed to run out of things to talk about. The alcohol only made the words come easier, the laughter louder, and yes, maybe Allison drank a little more than she should. Maybe. She was allowed, alright? After all the shit that had happened, she deserved to get a little drunk and stupid. Or so Lydia kept repeating. It was already light outside when Allison left, exhausted, but happy and giddy in a way that she hadn't felt since college.

She was on her way down the hall to the bedroom, stumbling a little on her heels, when two hundred pounds of werewolf in soft pajamas suddenly slammed her against the wall.

"Derek!" She yelped, unable to contain a little giggle. "What's going on?"

Derek's hands were on her hips, holding very lightly, but shaking a little in a way that made her frown. But then his face buried in the crook of her neck, nosing along it as a little whine escaped him, and Allison recognized it instantly, chuckling as she ran her hands up and down his back.

"Are you scenting me? Cause I smell like vodka and other people?" The wolf nodded against her neck, his hair brushing against a ticklish spot and making her squirm. "You're lucky you're cute, you know. I don't let just anyone make me smell like them."

It seemed Derek wasn't in a particularly wordy mood, but she didn't mind. This was nice. Derek's body was very, very warm; the little noises he let out were absolutely endearing, and her entire face turned red when the werewolf pressed an innocent, tentative kiss to her collarbone.

"You're, uh, very affectionate today." It was all innocent, right? Yeah, it totally was. She couldn't really think straight; her head was hazy and spinning from the alcohol and Derek was pressing a string of tiny kisses up her neck, making her shudder. Allison allowed her eyes to fall shut, a lazy smile on her lips as she relaxed into the touch and kept rubbing the wolf's back soothingly.

"Allison..." His voice was deep and needy against her ear, the sound close to a moan, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, it went straight to her groin. Okay. Maybe it wasn't that innocent. That was okay, though, wasn't it? It wasn't like they were doing anything inappropriate. She hadn't even kissed him. It wasn't a bad thing.

"Hmm?" She hummed in response.

"I know you're not making me."

The words didn't make sense. Allison pulled back a little to look in the werewolf's eyes, his pupils so wide that there was barely any green to see. And he was smiling. Not his usual, small, almost shy little grin; this was... Different. He looked almost drugged. Was he drunk too? Werewolves couldn't get drunk. She had thrown out Scott's wolfsbane-infused wine months ago. But this wasn't normal Derek.

So what? She wasn't normal Allison that day, either. There was sleepiness and vodka and champagne clouding her judgement. Not to mention a very attractive werewolf _pressing her against the wall and moaning her name in her ear._

When he leaned in for a kiss, her normal self certainly would at least hesitate a long while before kissing him back, slow and dirty, sending shivers up and down her spine as Derek pressed her closer between his body and the wall. Her normal self wouldn't have wrapped her arms languidly around his neck and sighed contentedly into the kiss, her entire body responding at once. And her normal, sober self would never, ever have let him shift their bodies around so his thigh fit snugly between both of hers, and - yep, that was definitely a flimsily clothed erection against her hip.

It was all warm and tingly and exciting, until Derek's hips started moving with explicit purpose, his soft whimpers becoming more and more desperate, his thigh causing a delicious kind of friction between her legs... And the feeling of the tips of his fangs brushing her neck jolted her back to reality.

She was making out with Derek. Not Scott. She knew that. It wasn't like she had mistaken one for the other. It had been almost three months since she lost Scott. She wasn't cheating on him. She wasn't. This _wasn't_ disrespectful to his memory. Allison was pretty sure she had never felt such a strong mixture of arousal and guilt before, even as she tried to convince herself there was nothing wrong.

"Derek, stop." She muttered, freezing in place and inhaling sharply when the werewolf's instinctive reaction was to pull her closer, humming worriedly against her neck as a response. His hips went still, and Allison could see how much effort it was taking him, could feel his hands begin to shake again. And shit, if she was picturing how good the vibration of that 'hmm?' would probably feel against some other parts of her body, well, she was only human.

"I don't wanna do this with you." If only her voice were as firm as the words. Shaky as it was, the response got a broken little whine out of Derek.

"Why?"

"I'm just not ready to jump into- I gotta go to sleep, okay?"

Derek's whole body was shaking now, but not moving, keeping her pinned between him and the wall. She'd be annoyed if he didn't sound so distressed.

"Derek, what's going on?"

"Heat." He gasped almost painfully. "Please?"

Oh, shit.

What the hell was the protocol here? Allison had never seen a werewolf go through an unmedicated heat. Scott, Aiden, and Ethan had been on suppressants for as long as she'd known them; the twins were always allowed to take the day off work even though the pills lessened the symptoms, and Scott... Well. There was a lot of slightly-rougher-than-usual sex involved, but that was about it.

Apparently, not taking the pills meant you ended up humping your owner in the middle of a hallway and making kicked puppy sounds when she said no.

Shit, she was so not equipped to deal with this right now.

"Derek. I don't want it."

He sounded like he was about to cry, his grip on her hips tightening as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. Which wouldn't be a problem, except his hips were moving again, frantic and desperate, and she was starting to enjoy it a little too much again... And sure enough, there was Scott in the back of her mind. Nope. She couldn't do it.

"I told you I _don't want it._ " Allison put as much authority as she could into the words, and it seemed to work; the werewolf whimpered loudly, but finally pulled away.

"'Msorry." He mumbled, ducking his head, and Allison couldn't resist pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"It's okay. I just can't, alright? Just... Uh. Take care of it in your room. I'm going to sleep."

And then she made her way to the bedroom on wobbly legs, even though sleep was the last thing in her mind.

\---

Derek knew this was a risk, knew Allison might not want him for a whole lot of reasons completely unrelated to his trauma. What confused him wasn't the rejection, it was the contradiction - she had kissed him back. Hadn't protested when he pressed her to the wall. Smelled unmistakably onboard with the situation.

His thoughts weren't clear enough for him to try to make any sense of it, even with the cold sense of dread in the pit of his stomach at the thought of having to go through his heat with no aid for the first time. The haze would clear a little bit once he got off, sure, and then he'd be annoyed at both Allison and himself, for entirely different reasons. Right now, he barely had the presence of mind to pull his pants down to his knees before leaning back against the door and fucking desperately into his fist, breathless and erratic. All it took was remembering the sharp, sweet scent of Allison's arousal, and in a minute he was spilling all over his hand, with a deep moan of relief.

It wasn't the same as having someone else, but marginally better than nothing. Getting himself off didn't put him to sleep, just took the edge off for an hour or two... Or would have, if he didn't hear an unmistakable buzz in the adjacent room, accompanied by very quiet gasping.

This girl was going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive thanks to Sarah for the ideas and the flailing.


	6. Lost control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE TRIGGER WARNING HERE. This chapter contains a sex scene with very, VERY little consent happening, if at all. Read at your own discretion.

It was almost noon when Allison woke up, groggy and uncoordinated, her eyes only half open. She'd feel bad about wasting half the day in bed if she hadn't gone to sleep at six in the morning, but that wasn't even her main concern right now - her main concern was getting up off the bed and making it to the bathroom in time to empty her stomach.

 

At first she didn't really remember the events of the previous night, but a frustrated groan in the next room made everything come back to her head at once. Lydia and Stiles' anniversary party. The engagement and the champagne at the restaurant. The vodka and laughter at their house. Taking a cab home, drunk and giggly. Derek...

 

_Holy crap, Derek._

 

She had made out with Derek. In the hall. With his fucking _leg pressed against her panties._ Jesus Christ. And she'd enjoyed it! Not to mention the fact that he was in heat with no medication, this was only day one, and Allison had no idea how to deal with that.

 

Allison waited until her stomach was done complaining about the previous night's questionable decisions, then stepped into the shower, her thoughts still unclear as she closed her eyes under the warm water.

 

Rationally, she knew - at least everyone kept telling her - that it was okay to move on from Scott. But she hadn't moved on yet, not even close. He was still on her mind everywhere; she still sometimes reached out in her sleep for someone who would never be there again, and caught herself considering buying this or that for Scott when she went shopping, only to stop, shake her head, and sigh. Of course she wasn't over him. You don't get over two and a half years of the most honest, breathtaking love you've had in your whole life in just a couple of months. Or maybe some people did, and more power to them, but not Allison, definitely not Allison.

 

But she had kissed Derek back. Eagerly. And there was no denying his voice had _done things_ to her, so much that when she went to her bedroom and shut the door afterwards, Scott definitely hadn't been the only person on her mind. Yet it still felt very much like cheating. If Scott would never be able to move on, why should she?

 

Allison wasn't in the mood to be rational. What she was in the mood for was stepping out of the shower, throwing on Scott's t-shirt over a pair of old pajama shorts, and going to check on the werewolf who was still locked up and whimpering in the guest room.

 

"Derek?" She knocked twice before getting a response - in the form of an angry, wordless growl. "Derek? Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah. Stay away."

 

He definitely didn't sound okay. Was this normal? And how did she not think of this before? Scott had always been the one who bought heat suppressants at the drugstore, claiming that if Allison insisted on buying her own birth control pills, he could buy his own damn heat medication. It just never occurred to her. In fact, it completely slipped her mind to even talk to Derek about heat. _Damn it, Allison, get your head in the game._

 

"Do you need something?"

 

"No." Allison was about to turn and walk away from the closed door when she heard Derek's voice again. “Yes. Water. Please.”

 

Sure enough, when she came back with a glass of water in one hand and a can of Pringles in the other – she doubted Derek had eaten yet, but he was obviously in no condition to step out of the bedroom for lunch – she entered the room to a sight she really hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just naked; Allison had seen the werewolf naked before, and although it was really not an unwelcome view, that wasn’t the main focus here. His whole body was glistening with sweat and visibly trembling; the bedroom was hot and stuffy even for her human senses, and Derek’s face was buried in a pillow… While the lower half of his body was very focused on _humping the other pillow like there was no tomorrow_ , each movement making him whine in a voice that was already becoming hoarse _._

 

There were a lot of things Allison had expected from this whole heat deal, but a live porno was definitely not one of them. And how exactly are you supposed to react to this kind of scene? ‘Nice butt you got there, mind if I stare at it for a while’? Probably not the best response. She busied herself by setting the water and the snack down on the nightstand, walking around Derek’s bed to open up the window, and then… What? She was completely at a loss for what to do here. Derek seemed to not have even noticed her presence, too occupied in fucking the living hell out of the pillow between his legs, his claws leaving deep marks in the sheets and even the mattress underneath him.

 

She was just going to pat him gently on the shoulder and let him know his water was on the nightstand if he wanted it. Which, as she learned quickly, was a huge mistake.

 

\---

His mate smelled like him, but also like another Alpha. Smelled like competition. His eyes flashed red, the enticing scent of the human’s body mixing with the rival Alpha’s and bringing out the beast in him, a primal need to mark his territory, his prey, to _claim_.

 

He’d still bitten the pillow beneath him, in a brief moment of clarity induced by a sudden, very welcome breeze, praying she’d leave. No, he knew her. She wasn’t prey. She was Allison. Allison Argent. His owner. Not prey. Not mate. Just human. He was a good wolf, wouldn’t attack, would _never_ attack. _Just please go away soon. Go away now. It hurts. Not acting on this hurts. Please. Please leave. Go. Go. Go._

She wasn’t leaving. Instead she was coming closer, tantalizing, impossible to resist, and when she touched his shoulder, it immediately eased some of the unbearable hotness that consumed his body. She was relief, she was his; he’d make her his.

 

There was no turning back once the Alpha gave in to the need to claim his mate.

 

It only took one swift move for him to pin her between his body and the bed. Every part of him was touching her now, her body cooling him down like magic, exactly what he desperately needed; he very nearly cried with the relief. But something was wrong. His mate was flailing under him, smelling of distress and worry, saying things his head was too clouded to understand. She was nervous; he understood. He wouldn’t be rough, didn’t need to be. He wasn’t attacking. No, just claiming his mate, taking care of her, like a good Alpha wolf should.

 

Panting hard, overwhelmed with a kind of pleasure that ran deep in his core, pure instinct, he leaned in and bit her at the back of the neck. Not hard. He didn’t want to draw blood or cause pain, didn’t want his fangs to sink in; all Derek wanted was to soothe his mate’s frazzled nerves. It worked. She was still talking, louder now, maybe yelling, but went still and rigid under him, ready for the Alpha’s claim. There’d be no doubt who she belonged to now that Derek had rubbed his scent all over her, erasing the other’s. His wolf howled proudly inside him.

 

One quick, sure swipe of Derek’s claws onto the thin fabric and her ass was exposed to him, soft skin right under his, bringing out a loud, triumphant howl from his dry throat. He couldn’t wait long enough to take her underwear off, and the position of his body on top of her didn’t allow any spreading of her legs, but this would do just fine. The smell of fear and anger radiating from his mate only registered dully in the back of his mind while he slid his cock between her cheeks, and it wasn’t as tight as it could be, wasn’t like he was _actually_ entering her, but it felt incredible, easing the pressure that had been building up inside him for God knows how many hours. It wasn’t long before he finally, _finally_ came all over her lower back, so intense that seconds later he was collapsing on top of his prey, his _mate_ , keeping her safe and protected under his body as he drifted off into a blissfully deep slumber.

 

\---

 

‘Sick’ didn’t even begin to cover how Allison felt. ‘Trapped under a naked, unconscious werewolf, with his sticky jizz drying on her mostly naked ass and all over Scott’s Bugs Bunny t-shirt’ was much more like it.

 

First order of business was getting the fuck away from Derek before he woke up and decided to hump her into oblivion again. He was heavy, but completely limp, and without the wolf’s strength willingly holding her down, it wasn’t too difficult to push him off. Derek rolled onto his back with the impulse, and Allison scrambled out of the bed, leaving the ripped shorts behind and rushing to the kitchen to take care of issue number two – which consisted of getting the two big bottles of water from the fridge, setting them down right by the door inside Derek’s bedroom, and closing the door as she stumbled her way out. There was no way she was coming back into that room before Derek’s heat had completely gone away.

 

Her hair was still wet from the earlier shower, but she needed another one, right now. She didn’t even bother taking the shirt off before getting under the water and letting it soak through the fabric. Thoughts were spiraling in her head, jumbled up and incoherent, and she didn’t know where to start.

 

Derek had essentially assaulted her. While so high on heat hormones, he probably had no idea what was even happening. But just because he couldn’t control himself, it didn’t erase the fact that it had happened, that he had done it, that she had felt more scared and helpless than any moment in her life since Scott’s death. It didn’t make the long, thin scratch marks on her ass go away, either; although they weren’t exactly painful, it still stung a little when the water hit them.

 

Actually, if she was being honest, Derek hadn’t hurt her physically. The only soreness anywhere on her body was the dull pain on her neck, but that was from twisting it around to try and look at Derek from underneath him, not from his teeth. And sure, the bite had made her go completely still – there were enough problems between them; nothing good could come from adding ‘accidental werewolf conversion’ into the mix – but it wasn’t violent. Granted, that didn’t make anything okay, just a little less awful. She’d take what she could get.

 

When she stepped out of the shower with Scott’s wet shirt bunched up in her hands, Allison didn’t think twice before dunking it in the trash. She’d kept the shirt because of the good memories it brought her. It really made no sense to keep it now that a very bad one was associated with it.

 

Now all that was left to do was get dressed, grab her purse, and go… Somewhere. Anywhere. To clear her head. To make sense of what her heart was doing.

 

Her anger was very quickly melting into something different, dull and painful, something she didn’t quite understand. She’d been attacked. By Derek. Her werewolf. The one who had been repeatedly attacked by her aunt, the aunt that killed Scott. And he hadn’t meant it; she knew that too, at least rationally. He was visibly acting on instinct alone. It wasn’t like she could blame him, really – but then again, who _could_ she blame? Certainly not herself. Or anyone else. Or Derek. It just sucked all around.

 

Her fingers were tapping on the phone screen before she even realized what she was doing.

 

 **Allison:** You busy?

 

The answer came almost immediately.

 

 **Isaac:** For you? Never. ;)

 **Allison:** Cute. I need your help.

 **Isaac:** Uh oh. What happened?

 **Allison:** Can you take an extra long lunch break today?

 **Isaac:** Allison, what’s going on?

 **Allison:** I’d really rather not talk about this via text. I’m okay. No imminent danger or anything. Just need to talk.

 **Isaac:** Olive Garden next to my work?

 **Allison:** Sounds good. See you in a half hour.

**\---**

 

Derek couldn’t breathe.

 

Maybe this was what a panic attack felt like. He’d had his fair share of breakdowns, but never a panic attack, and maybe this was his first.

 

She was going to _kill him._

Okay, not literally. But whatever punishment Allison chose, Derek knew he’d take it as quietly and obediently as he possibly could. He had it coming. God, he had it coming.

 

He doubted Allison would be coming back anytime soon, if at all. Surely she wouldn’t leave her own house because of a traitorous werewolf, but maybe somebody was coming for his ungrateful ass soon, to cut off his collar and deliver him to another Kate. He wouldn’t complain. Any time he had something better, he ended up ruining it anyway.

 

Here he was, getting to spend his heat in his own bedroom, on a comfortable bed. Even _after he had fucking pinned her down and done to her what Kate had done to him_ , she had come back with water for him before leaving. Like he still deserved to be taken care of after this.

 

Curling up in a corner of the bedroom, hugging his legs to his chest, Derek spent several minutes trying to will himself to stop shaking so much. By that time, another wave of heat was approaching, drowning out any coherent thought, and he was almost grateful.

 

\---

 

“So he fucked you. While in heat.” Isaac tried to confirm, his eyes wide with concern as he twirled a breadstick between his fingers, seemingly with no intention of eating it.

 

“Well, he didn’t technically fuck me. Like, there was no…” Allison could feel her face turning pink. “ _Insertion_ of things. But yeah. That’s basically what happened.”

 

“Holy fuck.”

 

“I know. That’s pretty much the only way my brain has been able to react to it. Holy fuck.”

 

Isaac reached out a hand, which she gladly took. It was nice, a grounding touch, like it always had been. Allison took some comfort in that.

 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

 

“That’s what I need your help with, actually. ‘Cause I have absolutely no clue.”

 

Allison took a bite off a breadstick, right as the waiter came with their plates. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but after having puked her guts out in the morning, she figured maybe getting some protein in her stomach wasn’t a bad idea.

 

“Are you gonna sell him off?”

 

“No!” She said immediately. “Of course not. That won’t be necessary. I’ll just… Get him started on heat suppressants as soon as this is over.”

 

“You do know that when they start taking it too long after puberty, it might not work. Especially on an Alpha.”

 

Allison bit her lip. Yes. She knew. Too well. It was a possibility she was trying to ignore. Stupid Isaac and his werewolf doctor knowledge.

 

“I know that. If that happens, I’ll just… I’ll think about it, okay? I don’t have to decide right now.”

 

They were both quiet for a long moment, pensive, eating together in silence. Usually, with Isaac, silence was a comfortable thing; now it felt heavy and loaded. It was he who broke it first.

 

“When Cam left for Afghanistan, he told me he’d get his own place when he came home. That if- if Dad didn’t let me move in with him altogether, I could still spend as much time as I had to at his place when Dad got particularly bad. That I wouldn’t even have to call first. Just show up.” Isaac’s voice always got a little softer, a little sweeter, when he talked about his older brother. It made Allison want to hug him every time he did; sometimes she gave in to that urge, but most times she just gave him a little encouraging smile.

 

He always smiled back.

 

“What I was saying is, you can come to my house. When he’s in heat, if the pills don’t work. No phone calls, no nothing. I mean… You know you can always come. But I’m making sure you know, ‘cause I don’t want you to think you don’t have a safe place when things get bad at home, okay?”

 

There was so much of Isaac’s own history in the offer, so much more than a simple friendly gesture; this time Allison really did get up off her chair to give him a big, tight hug.

 

“You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

 

Allison could feel her friend’s lips stretching into a big smile against her shoulder.

 

“You accepting my offer?”

 

She nodded. “I have to run a few errands and pick up some things at home, but I’ll be there tonight for sure. Thanks.”

 

\---

 

Derek heard it when she came into the house, smelling like another human – the same human whose hair she liked to play with when he came over – and like underlying disappointment as she walked by his bedroom. It came as no surprise, but still hurt.

 

He thought about going after her with apologies that wouldn’t even begin to cut it. But he was still worked up, still having only brief moments of clarity before the hormones took over each time he awoke, and didn’t trust his self-control. She probably wouldn’t want to hear his apologies anyway. Why would she?

 

It was only five minutes of opening and closing drawers and closet doors in Allison’s bedroom before she was walking out again. And stopping by his door. Derek heard her take one, two, three deep breaths, then sigh and walk away.

 

He was entirely convinced someone would be coming to drag him away any moment now. She didn’t even want to say goodbye, did she?

 

It wasn’t like he could blame her.

 

\---

 

“Thanks for this.” Allison said with a little smile as she made herself comfortable on Isaac’s couch, nestling against his pillow and wrapping herself up in the blanket like a burrito. She wasn’t cold, but it felt nice all cocooned up like this.

 

“Did you tell Derek you were staying here?” He asked quietly.

 

“I’ll text him tomorrow. Too cozy to do it now.”

 

Isaac patted her shoulder lightly, and with a muttered ‘goodnight’, he was making his way down the hall to his bedroom, leaving Allison alone with her thoughts in the living room. She doubted they’d let her sleep anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was officially the hardest thing to write. I honestly wouldn't have gotten this chapter out without the help of the lovely Beka (Vague_Shadows) and Paige (isaacmccall), so huge thanks to those amazingly talented ladies!


	7. And wild, and free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Sarah for being her awesome self, and to Beka for all the ideas.

The second day was hell from start to finish.

Derek couldn’t relax enough to sleep. The heat was fading unbearably slowly, enough to give him just a little more clarity every hour, but he still spent the whole day in a half-coherent state, humping everything in sight. By the time the hormones subsided and exhaustion won him over, he was in tears, barely able to move against the sweat-soaked sheets.

When the sun came up the next day, Derek lay unmoving on the bed, uncomfortable in about seventeen different ways, but finally calm. His empty stomach – and every other part of his body that was yelling out for his attention now that he could focus on something other than his dick – would just have to wait a few hours as he got some much needed sleep.

The day after a heat was always a little weird, his head always fuzzy and light like it was stuffed with cotton balls, his movements a little slower and clumsier than usual. This time it was considerably worse – Derek guessed that was due to how _brutal_ this heat had been – but he still managed to get up off the bed and go do what had to be done, even if it took him twice as long as usual to complete the tasks. A long shower and fresh clothes. Sheets in the washer. A new, clean set on each of the beds. A lunch composed of the potato chips Allison had brought him two days ago; normally, his appetite was a lot more ravenous than something a can of Pringles could fix, but there was an added element of nausea this time.

Sometimes, when you fuck up too irrevocably bad, thinking coherently isn’t always a good thing.

\---

**Reply to RadDan77**

I think I need help.

**New private message!**

**From RadDan77**

Okay, talk. Did the heat go okay? She didn’t take advantage of you, did she?

**Reply to RadDan77**

No. She didn’t. It was the other way around. I fucked up and she’s not coming back home and it’s been two days.

**New private message!**

**From RadDan77**

Hold on there, big guy. What do you mean, it was the other way around?

And she wouldn’t leave her own house like that. Did she pack a bag or something? Did she call you?

**Reply to RadDan77**

No call, no text, nothing. Not that I expected it in the first place. She did come back and rummage through her stuff before leaving again though. So there may have been a bag.

**New private message!**

**From RadDan77**

What did you do?

\---

After telling Isaac she’d be fine about eight times in a row and politely refusing his suggestion that she stay for dinner, Allison got her bag and drove home, sighing quietly as she opened the door. No more stalling now. She’d done a fantastic job of ignoring the events that led to her leaving in the first place, but now it was time to face it – face _him,_ too.

Derek wasn’t in the kitchen, or the laundry room, or the living room, where he usually hung out when there were no chores to be done. For a brief moment Allison worried that something might have gone wrong – maybe he got hurt? Maybe his heat lasted longer than two days and it wasn’t over yet? – but shook her head at herself. He was probably just asleep. Scott used to get really lazy after he was done with his heat, too.

The door to his room was open. When Allison peeked in, she found the werewolf curled up in a corner, hugging his legs to himself and resting his face against a wall.

Well, damn it.

“Hey. What’s the matter? You okay?” She asked cautiously, moving close enough that she could touch him if she reached out, but could still make a run for it if he got any bright ideas again. Not that she thought he really would, but you never know. She’d never thought her aunt could be a homicidal rapist either, and yet here they were.

Derek’s eyes were different when he met her gaze. Wide and sad, like a puppy at the pound. He even _looked_ a little like a scolded puppy when he curled up tighter, hiding his face behind his knees so only his eyes peeked out.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, and fuck, his eyes were welling up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- not that it matters, of course, but I couldn’t control it. I should have. I couldn’t.” He kept repeating, his voice breaking at the end of the words, and Allison was only human, okay. Yes, she knew they’d have to talk about this at some point, but not now, not when Derek was crying himself into a panic attack. So she took another careful step in his direction and sat beside him on the floor, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him close. Much to her surprise, the werewolf reacted immediately by turning to bury his face in the crook of her neck, hot tears falling onto her skin as Derek clung to her. Allison never knew hugging someone could be so heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

“I know you couldn’t.” She said softly, stroking a hand up and down his back in a soothing rhythm. “That doesn’t make it right, but I know you didn’t want to do it. I’m not mad.” It actually felt pretty good to have him pressed against her like this, so close she could almost feel his heartbeats and hear the pulse on his neck. His body was the normal kind of warm now, the completely unthreatening kind, which put her a lot more at ease. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I was going to, but then it completely slipped my mind.”

The werewolf sniffled against her neck, his voice coming out shaky.

“Thought you left for good.”

“I wouldn’t do that without talking to you.” _I wouldn’t do that, period._

“I’m sorry.” He repeated. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“That’s enough, Derek.” Allison said firmly. This cycle of apologies wasn’t helping anyone. “You’ve apologized already. It’s over. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

That, apparently, came as a pretty big surprise to the werewolf.

“How can you not be? You should hate me.” Still, Allison felt the Alpha’s arms tighten around her, like he was afraid she’d start hating him as soon as he gave her the suggestion. “I’m just like Kate.”

Those last four words, spoken in a broken whisper against her neck, caused Derek’s body to start shaking all over again, and all Allison could do was hold him close and shush him until he calmed down. Damn it. Consoling the guy who two days ago had held her down and jizzed all over her back was really not what she’d been planning for the day, and yet her heart was breaking for the six-foot-tall wolf who clutched at her body like a small child. Maybe she’d softened too much. Maybe right now she didn’t care.

“You’re not like her.” She assured him. “You were acting on instinct. If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

“I wouldn’t, I swear I wouldn’t.” He hiccupped. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know it doesn’t, sweetheart. But it doesn’t make you Kate, either.”

Derek didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he didn’t seem to have the energy to push the topic any further, just kept holding onto Allison as he gradually relaxed. Allison ended up relaxing, too, letting her mind wander far away. It wasn’t until Derek spoke again that she came back to the present.

“Do you forgive me?”

He sounded so small and defenseless, Allison almost wanted to say yes to put him at ease, but he’d be able to tell the lie from her heartbeat.

“I don’t know.” She replied honestly, and the silence that hung between them would have been heavy if she’d let it linger. “Now, how about we go eat something? Your stomach is growling like there’s another wolf in there.” Allison was determined to keep her tone light-hearted, playfully poking at Derek’s belly. There was still a lot to be discussed, but it didn’t have to be so intensely serious.

“Okay. I actually have something I need to run past you.”

\---

Allison had been so, so unbelievably kind to him, but Derek wasn’t going to let that get to his head, not now. Just because his owner was clearly a much better person than he deserved, it didn’t mean he was just going to pretend he wasn’t a danger to her.

He counted it as a big personal victory that instead of resorting to self-destructive behavior, this time he had a solid, well thought out plan that would actually be _good_ for him. Mostly because sitting around and moping wouldn’t do him any favors, and if he wanted to stay out of Allison’s life without anyone holding the other back, he sure as fuck wouldn’t manage that by sighing dramatically and telling her he didn’t deserve the kind of second chance she was so willing to offer. If this girl had no self-preservation instincts whatsoever, well, the least he could do was protect her himself.

And there was no pretending he wasn’t a little excited about this new possibility, either.

“So… I’m talking to someone on that forum. The one your friend indicated.” He began to talk only when they were already sitting at the dining room table, sharing a frozen pizza – Allison’s meal of choice when they both just couldn’t be bothered with actually making something. “This guy and his wife run a nonprofit werewolf protection service. It’s not exactly legal, but it’s kind of interesting.”

His eyes flickered up to meet Allison’s. Her expression was curious, if a little guarded.

“Go on.”

“They take in underage wolves who’ve been orphaned or left alone and manage to get them into foster homes, and it’s a lot quicker than if they went the legal way.” He took a deep breath to get to the part that actually applied to him. “And then they take the adults and help them get their emancipation. I wouldn’t meet the legal requirements to get mine for at least another year and a half, but these two, they- they know a shortcut. And then they help us find homes and jobs in werewolf communities.”

Derek didn’t miss the way Allison’s scent changed immediately at the suggestion, but she didn’t reply immediately, either because she had her mouth full or because she was trying to figure out what to say. Possibly both.

“You’re thinking about getting emancipated?”

“I am.”

And there it was, the scent of disappointment and… Weirdly enough, pride? Derek was about to give up on understanding this girl.

“Makes sense.” She replied with a little nod. “But how do you know this guy isn’t just scamming you?”

“They don’t charge for the service. Why would they be scamming anyone?”

“I don’t know, but they could. How can they afford to do all this without charging?”

Derek hadn’t really considered this aspect, but it made sense. The prospect made him deflate a little.

“Well, they want to meet us. You and me. I told him I’d ask you.”

Allison thought it over for a moment, and her fast heartbeat seemed out of place. What did she have to be nervous about?

“We can meet them.” She conceded after a moment of hesitation. “Somewhere public, of course. And we’re coming home to talk things over between you and me before you actually go to them. I’m gonna ask Stiles and Lydia about this, make sure it’s safe.”

Surprised at just how easy it had been, Derek nodded obediently. Allison wanted him to be safe even when he was about to stop being her property. Because she liked him. No matter how many times he thought about this, it still blew his mind every time.

\---

The mall food court was mostly empty when Allison and Derek sat down to meet RadDan77 and his wife. Her eyes kept darting around the place, looking for any potential duo that could be who they were looking for; alternatively, for any sign of danger. This guy could be literally anybody, with any intention, and like hell was she letting someone take Derek away without being absolutely sure it was safe.

If it were up to her, she wouldn’t let them take him away, period. But Derek seemed to want his independence, and she couldn’t blame him. It’d be good for him. Allison would just have to deal with that and not be selfish.

That didn’t stop her from squirming impatiently in her seat, not really able to stay in one position for more than a second until the comforting weight of Derek’s warm hand came to rest on top of hers.

“Lydia’s here. Undercover. If anything goes wrong, she’s here.” She held on to the werewolf’s words and to his hand equally tightly.

“But nothing bad’s gonna happen. We’re just gonna talk to them.”

“I’m not leaving with them today anyway.” He said quietly, but a moment later, his grip on her hand was tightening to the point that it was a little painful, his eyes wide and his jaw falling open.

“What? What? What is it?”

Derek was focusing on something behind her, so she turned around to see a cocky-looking werewolf in a V-neck walking side by side with a pretty brunette. So far, nothing out of the ordinary, but Derek seemed to have seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong? Derek, you’re freaking me out.”

“That’s _Peter_.” He muttered accusingly. “Remember I told you I had an uncle who went missing a few years before your aunt bought me? That’s him. That’s my uncle Peter.”

The woman who was holding Peter’s hand took a good look at Derek and pointed in their direction, making the older werewolf finally look, and his blue eyes widen in surprise.

“Is this a good thing?”

“When he disappeared, I was ten. Not exactly a great judge of character. But I think so.”

The couple approached them quickly, and even after Allison had already shaken hands with them both and sat down across from the woman – Sarah, she’d told her – she watched tensely as Derek and Peter stared each other down, still on their feet.

“So you’re RadDan77.” Derek had his arms folded in front of his chest, his posture guarded. The older wolf responded with a smirk.

“Well, Dan sounds a lot cooler than Peter.” He reached out and patted Derek’s shoulder, causing him to back off reflexively; Peter lifted his hands in surrender. “Got it. No unnecessary touching. But yeah, long time no see.”

“You disappear off the map for sixteen fucking _years_ , and the best you have to say _is long time no see_?”

“I had a feeling a big hug would be the wrong way to go.” The response was received with a raised eyebrow from Derek, and Allison had to bite back a little laugh.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Peter dropped his weight onto the chair without waiting for Derek’s answer; the younger wolf followed suit, moving his chair a little closer to Allison’s so their knees were touching. She figured it might be a grounding thing, and didn’t mind in the slightest.

It was Sarah who started telling the story.

“Pete and I were together. He hadn’t told any of you guys about it…” She made a vague gesture towards Derek. “But we got kind of stupid on his first heat and I ended up pregnant. My family threw a king-sized fit about how I wasn’t about to join a family of _wolves_ and be like them.”

“I couldn’t tell Talia she was about to have a niece or nephew and never be allowed to see them, either.” Peter intervened, his face somber. “So I panicked. I was fifteen, Derek. You’ve made some pretty dumb mistakes around that age, too.”

Allison didn’t know if Peter had meant the comment in an insulting way, digging up something she didn’t know about, but it made Derek’s eyes flash red, his nostrils flaring for a moment before he took a deep breath to keep his shift under control. By this point it was pretty much second nature for her to slip her hand into his, stroking at his knuckles with her thumb, and it seemed to help.

“Cute.” Sarah remarked, pointing towards their linked hands with an amicable smile.

“So one night, I grabbed a few of my things and left. Sarah had just turned nineteen and had been living alone for a while, so she was able to register me under her name and collar me as hers. For the first few months, I didn’t even want to talk to any of you. The freedom was amazing, I’d been pissed at Talia, and you know how I have trouble letting things go. And then when I started to miss them, I couldn’t just come back like nothing happened, you know? Couldn’t face telling everyone I ran away.” Peter took a deep breath, casting a mournful look down at his own knees; it was his wife’s turn to wrap an arm securely around his shoulders. “On our little girl’s sixth birthday, I got this feeling. This terrible, terrible feeling. Like something was shattering. I ran to the house, and I knew - I knew _someone_ had died, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine what I ended up seeing when I got there.”

Allison knew Derek’s family had died in a fire, though he’d never shared the details, and she’d never pushed it. At the mention of the incident, both Hales shared a heavy look, and she and Sarah stayed quiet in solidarity, just holding onto their respective wolves a little tighter as a form of reassurance.

“So… Your service.” Derek cleared his throat after a moment of silence. “You house us until we’re officially emancipated?”

Peter nodded.

“And how do you pay for this?” Allison asked. “I mean, it’s nonprofit. How do you get the money for a house big enough for yourselves, your daughter, and… How many werewolves?”

“I inherited my family’s business. Breeding and selling horses.”

“And we currently have… Six pups and five adults.”

“I hear this business is illegal.”

“Well, yeah, I told Derek about it. It’s not like the government cares much about what happens to an orphaned pup that’s still too young to be sold, anyway. Or about giving a grown wolf their freedom.”

Allison pondered the explanation for a second. It seemed solid.

“Now, Derek, if you don’t mind, we actually have a few questions for you. Just some basic information to fill out your emancipation forms and get a better feel of what kind of job you should apply for after you get it.”

Derek and Allison exchanged a questioning stare before he turned back to Peter, nodding silently.

\---

Peter and Sarah had asked a surprising amount of questions. Whether Derek could do a full shift like his mother could, how long ago he’d become an Alpha, details about his education, everything. What really made both him and Allison a little more confident was that Peter insisted on asking whether he had any triggers they should know about, any activities he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing because of his past experiences with Kate.

He’d let Allison do most of the talking, comforted by their linked hands and her assertive tone as she asked a rather extensive list of questions she’d jotted down on a piece of paper, plus some that came to mind at the moment. It wasn’t like he cared much about where he went once he left her house, anyway, but it felt good to see how much _she_ cared. To be quite honest, Derek had felt so protected, he almost gave up on leaving altogether.

He was still a risk to Allison. Not to mention, getting his independence would be a good thing, a great thing; he wouldn’t have to rely on a human for his livelihood anymore, and could live on his own, away from anything that could harm him – from anyone _he_ could harm, too.

Which is why, as he listened to Allison talking on the phone with Stiles, Derek couldn’t help but get a little optimistic.

"So I ran Peter Hale's name through the system." Stiles' voice was easy to hear through the phone even if he didn't have werewolf senses. "Seems like everything's okay here. Beta werewolf, thirty-one years old, owned by a Sarah Tate since age fifteen, no criminal record."

Allison nodded to herself, pacing restlessly around the room. "What about her?"

"Pretty reputable horse breeder. Up to her nose in family money. Two wolves under her name, a.k.a. Peter and their sixteen-year-old kid, Malia. We sent one of our agents down to the community to ask around here and there, and it looks like the story checks out. Happy adoptions, a couple successful emancipations too."

"And the daughter?"

"Malia Tate-Hale, omega werewolf. Kind of a troublemaker at school - same place Derek's dad used to teach, by the way - but nothing heavy, just minor infractions, little bit of roughhousing."

Derek's heart was beating faster already. Allison was pacing nervously around the room, her free hand balled up into a fist by her side, not loosening even as she thanked Stiles quietly and hung up. And then she was coming toward where he sat on the floor, taking a seat beside him, and letting out a breath she seemed to have been holding for days.

"You're sure you want this?"

Her voice was soft, but her expression was guarded, careful, like she was trying not to influence his decision with her own expectations. Derek might actually love her for that.

All the more reason to leave before ‘might’ became ‘definitely did’.

"I do."

That night, the papers Sarah had given them were all signed, and he started to pack his clothes as soon as they were done with dinner. Allison smelled sad, although it was a different kind of sadness from when they'd first met, but she'd be okay soon, he knew it. Maybe once he left she'd find a mate, someone suitable; perhaps even Isaac, who seemed to take as much comfort in her company as Derek did. Or she'd be better off on her own. Either way, Derek wouldn't know; he'd be far away and starting his own, independent life.

For the rest of the night, he allowed himself to be selfish and get excited about the admittedly scary prospect of a new life, new opportunities. Four months ago he hadn't thought it'd be possible to get this hopeful, let alone to actually earn his own living with a job - something he'd be good at - and support himself without aid from a human, be they spiteful and violent like Kate or kind and protective like Allison. Now, though, the kind of freedom he hadn't dared to want, the kind his parents had hoped to give all their children, was just a day away.

\---

**New private message!**

**From RadDan77**

Have you and your owner reached a decision?

**Reply to RadDan77**

I was just about to message you. Everything's signed, I'm packed and ready to go.

**New private message!**

**From RadDan77**

You won't regret this. Sarah will be by to pick you up at nine tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this sounds a lot like one of the fics I recommended a couple chapters back, but I promise, it doesn't end here! There's plenty of shenanigans to happen. The adventure is just getting started...


	8. Something new, something blue

**Isaac:** Stiles. Lydia. Answer. Now.

**Stiles:** Dude, what's wrong? You scare the crap out of me when you do that.

**Isaac:** What were the names of the Whittemore wolves?

**Stiles:** It was the Nair family...? Why?

**Isaac:** No, no, first names.

**Stiles:** What's going on, Isaac?

**Isaac:** I remember you commenting about a weird name. I can't remember what it was, but a little girl came to the clinic today and I swear I've heard her name before. She's under the owner's family name though.

**Stiles:** Oh, shit, okay. There were two little girls. Hold on. Lemme look in the system. She still there?

**Isaac:** I had to send her home, but told the owner to bring her back here in two days. That enough time for a warrant?

**Stiles:** Awesome, yeah. Okay, there was a six-year-old named Paramjeet, and a nine-year-old named Gopika. Please tell me it was one of those.

**Isaac:** Gopika. That's the one.

**Stiles:** Oh, man, I love you. Do you have the owner's info?

**Isaac:** Matthew Daehler. I managed to sneak a picture with my phone.

**Stiles:** Send it to me. We're gonna get a warrant for her file, too, so if you can make sure it's legible, that'd be swell.

**Isaac:** It is, don't worry.

**Stiles:** You are the actual best. If they contact you, you don't know anything, got it? And tell me or Lyds right away if they do.

\---

Allison was determined to not be a crybaby about the fact that Derek was leaving. He wanted to pursue his independence, and that was wonderful; who was she to get in the way? She'd be a hypocrite to even consider it. And she was happy for Derek, really, she was. He'd changed so much - for the better - since he first arrived, naked and growly; now he spoke with confidence, even argued with her without recoiling. She was proud of him.

Plus, she really had done all she could to ensure the place he'd be staying at was safe. He'd be okay there. When he went into heat again, there'd be wolves there he could spend it with, instead of suffering for two days completely alone while Allison hid out at Isaac's. Yes, he'd be okay.

Even so, the air between them was thick with tension as they shared a quiet, awkward breakfast. Derek kept glancing at the door or his phone, and Allison just ate her cereal in silence, trying to keep up the best poker face she could manage.

"You know you can come back if you want to, right?" The words came out before Allison could stop herself. "I mean, if something doesn't work out, or after you get your own place and stuff. You can visit."

Derek seemed surprised. "You'd want that?"

"Well, yeah, of course."

The uneasy atmosphere was making Allison anxious, so she stood up to take both their empty bowls to the sink. The werewolf stood too, but stayed where he was, looking strangely shy and unsure. It reminded her of that first night, when he'd done a good statue impression by the couch for the whole time she'd been in the shower; even though his posture was a lot more relaxed now, it was still a little unsettling.

"You wanna watch some TV until it's time to go?"

Derek shrugged in response, and a moment later Allison was settling on one side of the couch, Derek taking the other Side instead of his usual spot on the floor. As much as she liked seeing him get comfortable - he'd always assure her that the floor was comfortable, that he genuinely preferred it, which she only started sort of believing when he got into the habit of laying his head on her knee and pressing his whole side against her leg - it looked wrong. Like they were coming full circle, back to when he thought she was mourning Kate and would hit him if he misbehaved.

The werewolf seemed to catch the distress in Allison's scent, because a moment later he was reaching for her hand and lacing their fingers together firmly, big green eyes looking worriedly into Allison's. This time, she didn't resist the impulse to move closer, to press her face into the crook of his neck, and just breathe deep for a while. She didn't need werewolf senses for his scent to be calming, like a security blanket.

To Allison's surprise, Derek let go of her hand, and she only had a second to wonder if she'd pushed something too far before he was wrapping his arms around her, letting out a quiet little sigh against her temple. She'd been close to Derek before, in several different ways, but this... This was sweeter. He held her like he meant it, like he didn't want to let go, if only for a few minutes.

"I'm gonna miss you." She muttered against his skin, eyes falling shut.

After a minute of absolute silence, Derek squeezed her a little tighter.

"Gonna miss you too."

He kept a hand firmly between Allison's shoulderblades, pulling her along as he leaned back on the couch, so she was mostly resting on top of him. It was certainly a welcome surprise; Derek was tactile, sure, but not usually given to this kind of intimacy. Not that she was complaining.

"Are you upset that I'm leaving?" The question was careful, almost hesitant.

"I'm happy for you, Derek. You're gonna be a lot happier now, and I'm so proud of you for going after your independence. I'm just... Kind of bummed because I'm not gonna have you around anymore."

"Makes sense." And then, with a more teasing tone, "Didn't know I was that special."

"It kind of snuck up on me too."

The silence that hung between them afterwards was different from that morning, lighter, easier. Allison could honestly stay like that and listen to his heartbeats for a long time without wanting to move.

The fact that she hadn't felt this way since Scott, hadn't expected to feel this way again since he died, was something she'd have to file away for a later time... Especially because Derek was leaning in, angling his face so that when she looked up their noses were touching, and _oh, fuck, does he actually want to-_

"With all that's happened, I think I'd better ask first." And his tone was soft, his lips curved into a private little smile, and it made Allison's heart jump. "Can I kiss you?"

Before she could overthink it, Allison nodded.

This was nothing like the feverish, urgent kiss they'd shared that one morning, when Allison was still drunk and Derek was going into heat and wouldn't stop rutting against her hip. Not that she hadn't enjoyed that, but this felt different, more precise, more intimate. Even though she'd probably try to deny it later, the proverbial butterflies were wreaking havoc in her stomach.

One moment, Allison had her fingers tangled in Derek's hair and her body all nestled against him; the next, they were pulled violently back to reality by the sound of the doorbell.

One tight hug and a whispered goodbye later, Derek was disappearing out the front door with his duffel bag dangling from his shoulder, following closely behind a very cheerful Sarah. And then Allison was alone, with his discarded collar still clasped firmly in her hands.

\---

The trip took at least two hours, but Derek didn't mind at all. It gave him time to stare out the window and think, grateful for the fact that Sarah seemed to be as unenthusiastic about small talk as he was. Getting lost in thought was easy this way.

Thoughts about Allison and that kiss, for example. He hadn't been kissed that way since... Well, ever, if he was being honest. Kate had kissed him tenderly a few times, back when he still confided in her, but back then it still felt like he had to prove something, like he had to convince her that he was worth liking. With Allison it wasn't demanding, wasn't a challenge; it just felt undeniably, uncorruptibly good. It really had been the perfect way to say goodbye to someone he'd come to feel so strongly about in just a few months. Maybe not so perfect, actually, because he could easily see himself doing that again, and again and again; not to mention it wasn't even the first time Derek had caught himself picturing scenarios in which he kept replacing Boyd and Erica with himself and Allison in his mind.

That was just a fantasy, of course. It didn't matter. His life was about to make a turn, anyway. He should focus on himself before even thinking about this kind of thing.

He'd been up most of the night with questions and possible scenarios in his mind. The place he'd be staying at with Peter and Sarah and the other werewolves wasn't much of a concern; even if the company ended up being bad, he'd only need to stay there for a few months before his emancipation papers came out and he could finally find a place of his own. He doubted he'd be able to afford much more than a tiny apartment for a good while, but that'd be enough, more than enough.

And what about jobs? There really wasn't a lot he knew he was good at. Perhaps he'd learn some skills there before applying for a job. He still remembered some things his mother had taught him about sewing, but definitely not enough to make a living out of it; he'd probably just end up behind a counter somewhere. Not that this was a bad idea, but he'd rather not spend the whole day talking to people.

Time would tell, he guessed.

The car pulled up outside a surprisingly bare property, a rather small cottage surrounded by a large area of mostly unkempt grass. Derek raised an eyebrow at Sarah, in a silent question. Where were the horses? Or the stables, for that matter?

The woman seemed to understand his confusion.

"We have a full house already, but there's two adults leaving tomorrow. Soon as they do, you get moved to the farm. This is kind of our backup house."

It sounded a little suspicious, but her heartbeat was steady, so Derek nodded.

"Signal's a little bad in there, though. You should probably tell Allison you're here while we're still outside."

"Can't it wait?"

"She's probably worried, sweetie. Tell her now."

This time, it really did sound suspicious. Derek typed up the message quickly, angling his phone away from Sarah so she couldn't see the message.

-

**Derek:** I'm here, but something weird is happening. Might be nothing. If I don't message you by tomorrow, please call Stiles or Lydia.

-

As soon as he pressed send and tucked his phone back into his pocket, the woman nudged him gently with her elbow, indicating that they should go into the house. Derek walked along with her, a little warily, taking in all his surroundings as Sarah locked the door behind them.

There wasn't much to see. Not a lot of furniture, not a lot of space, not really a lot of anything. Nothing smelled particularly familiar or dangerous, but there was something... Different. Strange. He couldn't recognize it. It emanated from the walls, from the wood paneling on the floor, from the ceiling, everywhere, making him a just slightly light-headed, just a little bit nauseous. There was a stick of incense burning on the mantel above the unlit fireplace - sweet and strong, possibly jasmine - but if the intention was masking the strange scent of the wood, it was largely unsuccessful.

Sarah was approaching him, withdrawing something from her purse, and this time he did recognize the smell, even beneath the overpowering incense. But by the time he even tried to react, the tip of the needle was already poking into his jugular, the bright purple liquid disappearing from the syringe as Sarah injected it into his neck.

She smelled triumphant.

Everything went black.

\---

"A little help here?"

Lydia's voice brought Allison out of her musings, and she rushed to stand up off the little couch she'd been sitting on to go zip up her friend. It must have been the sixth or seventh white dress she tried on, with varying degrees of success; this one, with a lace trim on the bodice and silver embroidery on the skirt, was particularly gorgeous.

"We might have a winner here." Allison commented once the dress was on. "I think it's either this or the one with the little pearls."

"That might need too much adjusting. Could ruin the embroidery."

"True, true." She stepped back for a moment to give Lydia a good look up and down. "You already look amazing and it hasn't even been adjusted yet."

Lydia beamed proudly, wiggling around to check herself out in the mirror from every angle. Her excitement was almost contagious enough to make Allison forget about the text she'd received from Derek a few hours earlier... Almost.

"For God's sake, woman, snap out of it." The redhead sighed loudly, at the same time as the saleswoman - a skinny, cheerful Asian woman called Kira - came in to check on her. Allison didn't have time to retort.

"I heard you say we had a winner?" Kira smiled sweetly as she approached, a bright yellow pin cushion strapped to her wrist.

A smile replaced Lydia's previously exasperated expression, and Allison was eager to return it, to keep the focus solely on her friend and the wedding dress that was now being stabbed with several pins by Kira's swift hands.

"So when's the wedding?" The saleswoman asked.

"In exactly ten months."

"Excited?"

"Very." Lydia grinned proudly. "I get to stand in front of everyone I love and marry my high school sweetheart."

It only took a question from Kira for the redhead to start telling her the story of how they got together; usually, she wasn't so chatty with strangers, but the excitement brought out a very eloquent side of her. This way it was easy for Allison to sit back down and just listen quietly, chiming in here and there, but mostly staring at her phone a lot.

That is, until it was snatched away by a very annoyed, still half-naked Lydia.

"Hey!"

"I'll give it back if you get a text or a call or something. Now _chill. The fuck. Out_."

"Lyds, he messaged me-"

"Saying something might be wrong. I know." She huffed and rolled her eyes, Allison's phone tucked away safely in her pocket while she put her shirt back on. "Ally, the amount of time you've spent worrying about this guy since he came into your life is a little disturbing."

"He needs me, okay?"

"Don't you mean _you_ need _him_?"

The impact of the words was enough to make Allison shut up for a second, mostly because they were a lot truer than she wanted them to be. Maybe she really had occupied herself far too much with Derek since Scott died. It made it easier to cope. Who could blame her? Maybe she had become a lot more emotionally dependent on him than she probably should. And now that he was gone... Well, even if he wasn't exactly gone forever, it still felt like a much bigger loss than she'd anticipated.

"I'll take that stunned silence as a yes. Up." Lydia reached our her hand to pull Allison to her feet, and they walked out of the store side by side.

"I haven't really been alone yet."

The realization sank right to her stomach.

"You have to get used to it eventually, Ally. He was a nice transition, he made things easier for you, but you really need to learn to be alone."

_But he was more than a transition,_ she protested internally. Lydia was making it sound like Derek had just been a tool, a means to an end, and that was so far from the truth. Allison cared for him. As a person. As the quiet, moody werewolf who liked to sit on the floor and melted when Allison touched his hair. She wasn't just going to miss having company in general, she was going to miss _him_.

Lydia was right about one thing, though. She had to learn to be alone. The house would be completely empty now, with nobody to come home to, nobody to worry about, and she'd just have to make the best of that - Derek had gone after his independence; maybe it was about time she went after hers, too, in a different sense.

Which still didn't stop her from fishing her cell phone out of Lydia's pocket and stuffing it in her own.

Now wasn't the time to keep checking it obsessively, though. It was time to go look at wedding invitations with her best friend, and be happy for her, and forget about Derek for at least a few hours.

Everything was okay. Or would be.


	9. Unraveling pt 1

When Derek woke up, his mind was almost completely numb, his body heavy and his eyes still closed.

Of course there had to be a catch.

Derek couldn't even begin to process everything. His freedom had been so close, _so fucking close_ , and now here he was: still a little drugged up, stuck somewhere he didn't know how to get out of - he doubted he could, anyway - without any way of Allison or anyone else to know where exactly he was.

To make matters worse, there was a soft but thick collar around his neck, and it smelled distinctly of wolfsbane.

He should have just stayed at Allison's. When you have a good thing you probably don't even deserve, you don't question it, and you definitely don't throw it away. This was karma biting him in the ass yet again.

The disappointment was too much to process all at once, and it felt like his mind had just decided to shut down altogether, just barely running the basic program of trying to get a feel of the place he was in.

A bed. He was definitely on a bed. Not as comfortable or as soft as the one he had at Allison's house; actually closer to the bunk bed from Kate's basement, but a bed nonetheless. He definitely wasn't in a basement, though, because the weird smell of the wooden walls was still lingering in the air. With his eyes still closed, he could make out the scent of eight separate adult wolves, although only two of them were in the room right now, and maybe four young pups...

... One of whom just happened to be sleeping soundly on Derek's chest, fully shifted, soft fur tickling his chin.

Well, that was a new development.

Reluctantly, Derek opened his eyes and saw another mattress slightly above him, confirming his suspicions about the bunk beds. Looking around, he found himself in a room with about half a dozen bunks and three cribs; there was a bin in the corner full of what looked like children's toys, and on the top bunk on the opposite side of the room, a skinny, blue-eyed werewolf was watching him with interest. Two bunks over, a young woman sat cross-legged with a pillow on her lap and a baby latching hungrily onto her breast, her shirt discarded on the mattress. Both werewolves wore the same collar as him.

"Morning." The boy greeted him calmly. He couldn't be older than eighteen. "You're new."

Derek nodded silently and lifted a careful hand to stroke through the little beta's fur. The touch grounded him somewhat, and the tiny werewolf who seemed to think he was a good pillow was the most unthreatening thing he could think of; it reminded him of how Cora used to sleep on top of him when they were children, although she'd never managed a full shift.

"Hey. Dude. Are you listening?" The woman with the baby snapped her fingers to get his attention, but Derek didn't even have the energy to talk right now. All he did was nod again, which elicited a sad little sigh from her. "Liam, I think he's in shock."

Derek supposed that was as good a way as any to explain it.

"Still, we got an Alpha here. I thought there'd be a little more fight in him."

The growl got caught in Derek's throat, aborted before it could actually come out. He was tired. Dear God, he was tired. He watched with a blank stare as the woman pulled the baby to rest his chin on her shoulder, lightly patting his back and humming softly.

"You don't know his story, dude. Don't judge." She chastised. "This could be all the fight that's left."

"Always optimistic, Clara."

"I just don't wanna make assumptions."

"Well, I'm _assuming_ this guy doesn't really deserve the status if he's in this state and they haven't even done anything to him yet."

"Liam. Enough."

At any other time, it would have annoyed Derek that the two betas were talking about him like he wasn't there, especially Liam, but right now he didn't really mind; it could actually be useful, if he got to hear what exactly he should expect from Sarah and Peter. Which he only knew wasn't anything good.

The baby burped once against Clara's shoulder, so she stood up carefully to lay him down on one of the cribs, then tugged her shirt back on quickly while she approached Derek's bed. She gave off a good kind of energy, lighthearted and easy; even as she came close and crouched to meet his eyes, Derek didn't move a muscle besides the absentminded caress to the little wolf's fur.

"I'm gonna ask you a few questions, and you can just nod or shake your head, okay? Just wanna get a better feel of what we got here."

Derek had no idea why she would want that, but nodded in agreement; Liam's loud sigh registered dully in the back of his mind as the other beta's warm brown eyes locked with his.

"Okay, first things first. I'm Clara. That's Liam. He's an ass, but mostly harmless." Clara turned to shoot the boy a wink, which was received with a half-committed growl. "I ran away from a bad owner when I was still pregnant with little Dylan over there. Found Peter and Sarah online. Needless to say, the whole freedom thing didn't work out as planned."

Understatement. Derek nodded once to let Clara know he was listening.

"Liam just really wanted his emancipation. His owner was gullible as hell. Didn't ask two questions before handing him off to Peter."

He nodded again, silently, the rhythmic strokes to the little wolf's fur anchoring him down to reality just enough to pay attention to what the woman was saying. For a fleeting second, he wondered if sometimes, when Allison came home smelling like flowers and bitterness - she'd never tell him when she went to visit Scott's grave, but he could always tell; it wasn't so much a secret as it was an unspoken understanding between them - if the time she'd spend playing with his hair in front of the TV had the same effect on her.

"What's your story? Did you meet them on that forum, too?" Her voice was more curious than concerned. Derek confirmed with a little nod.

"Were you desperate to get out of a bad place?"

No. _God, no._ He should have stayed with her, should have stayed home. She'd have helped him get emancipated legally if he'd just waited long enough.

"But you were on the Howl Network. Something had to suck. So, other wolves in the house making your life hard?"

He shook his head.

"Previous experience?"

Nod.

"Do you know what's gonna happen here?"

Shake.

"Are you scared?"

Deep breath.

Sigh.

Nod.

\---

This was just ridiculous. Allison was a grown woman. She knew how to be alone. Hell, she'd lived alone before! ... For maybe two months of college before she moved into an apartment with Isaac, but still, she'd lived alone. She could handle it. She could!

So after all the wedding-related shopping and a nice lunch with Lydia, she forced herself to go home and do things. _All_ the things. Chores, laundry, getting the things Derek hadn't taken with him into a box to make the guest room as bare as it had been before he came along.

Somewhere in between cleaning out Derek's bedroom - the guest room, _the guest room_ \- and chucking a load of white clothes in the washer, her phone buzzed with the text she'd been hoping for.

-

**Derek:** Nevermind, everything's fine. I'll message you again in a few days.

-

Now there was officially nothing to worry about. If she worried anyway... Well, it wouldn't really come as a surprise to anyone. Water was wet, cats went meow, and Allison Argent worried. It was a fact of life.

Missing Derek wasn't like missing Scott. Scott's death left an open wound in her, still healing little by little, occasionally ripping back open again and tugging at her heart. Derek hadn't died, he'd just left. It wasn't an open wound, just a dull, throbbing ache in the back of her mind, like the aftermath of a bad migraine.

It wasn't as bad, but sure as hell wasn't pleasant.

As she opened up her laptop to get some work done, Allison decided her next story would be about dealing with loss. Maybe it'd be easier once she wrote about it. Maybe it'd help the kids who read her books, too.

When life gives you two werewolves and takes them both away, you write a fucking book.

\---

After a lot of gentle coaxing from Clara - and a lot more snark from Liam than he wished there had been - Derek willed himself to talk a little. The room was mostly empty for a good while, save for a few kids who came by to pick up toys from the bin and then ran back out; the little werewolf who'd been sleeping on Derek's chest woke up and sniffed him before walking away and emerging from the bathroom as a five-year-old boy in a blue hoodie, and most of the silence in those few hours was filled by Clara. She told him about little Dylan's father, about some of the other wolves that inhabited the house, about how nobody was entirely sure what happened to the werewolves that Peter and Sarah escorted out the back door, but dramatically enough, they never came back to tell the tale.

She and Liam also talked about the things he should expect while in the house - she'd been there for a month, Liam for two - and so when Derek was pulled into a much more bare, much brighter room by Sarah, he knew he'd be ordered to strip and look nice for her camera. Sarah took pictures from several different angles, licking her full lips like he was a fine meal, and it was all he could do not to throw up from the familiarity of the whole scene.

He could practically see Kate with her phone aimed at him, scrutinizing his teenage body like she owned it _(she did)_ , like she was about to wreck him _(oh, God, she was)_. And with that in mind, it was disturbingly easy to stay still through every bright flare of the flash, to keep his posture straight and his face neutral, to keep the flinching to a minimum and fight the nausea when her hands were all over him - not hurting, not as a prelude to anything, just letting him know that she could if she wanted to. It was so extremely familiar. All he had to do was slip back into the old mindset. All he had to do was be sixteen again.

Sarah was methodical about it, although there was excitement in her scent - excitement but not arousal, Derek noted - and he was dressed and down in the kitchen in minutes.

It wasn't as bad as Kate's, not yet. He should at least be thankful for that. There was another wolf cooking with him, to whom he only spoke the bare minimum, trying hard to make the meal the way he was supposed to. Liam had told him about the punishments that happened when their performance was lacking, and while he hadn't been graphic in the description, Derek wasn't too willing to try one anytime soon.

Besides, although his phone was nowhere to be seen, he'd messaged Allison in the morning. Surely by the next day she'd be calling Stiles and Lydia, and they'd do something, send someone, get him out of there - maybe Clara and Liam and little Dylan, too. Hopefully all of them. Allison cared. She wanted him to be safe. If he wasn't safe, he could come home. She'd told him that, and her heartbeat had been steady.

He only had to sit through a day or two, and then surely he'd be home again, safe and sound, with his head on Allison's knee and her fingers carding through his hair.

\---

Gopika was a tiny girl for her age. Tiny, quiet, and unbelievably stubborn.

"Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me, okay?" Stiles' voice was strained, and so was his patience. He'd been trying to get the girl to speak for at least a half hour now, to no avail; Lydia was in the other room with Matt Daehler, and something told him she was having just as little luck.

All he got from Gopika, every time he asked a question, was a firm shake of her head and annoyance in her eyes.

"I just wanna know about your family so we can find them, okay?"

"Not okay." She mumbled. Hey, at least that was progress, kind of. Words were a good sign. Stiles didn't miss the hint of panic in her voice, either.

"Why not? Did something happen to them?" _Did they die_ , was the question he wanted to ask. Much to Stiles' disappointment, the girl just looked down at her knees and brought her thick rubber blacelet up to her lips again. She'd been chewing on the thing since she got to the interrogation room; it was already slimy with saliva, but seemed to appease her anxiety somewhat. Stiles could relate.

"Why don't you wanna tell me?"

Another shake of the head, more vigorous this time.

"Did somebody tell you something bad was gonna happen if you told anyone?"

"Kinda?"

Well, that was definitely getting them somewhere. Stiles leaned in a little closer, trying to look the tiny werewolf in the eye.

"Well, I can guarantee that nobody's gonna hurt you or any of them if you talk to me. Okay? Pinky promise." Stiles held out his pinky finger to the girl, but she ignored it with a scoff.

"I know _that_. But you're gonna put Uncle Matt in jail."

Well, that took Stiles by surprise. Isaac had mentioned the guy was kind of an asshole, and from what little he'd seen, he could agree wholeheartedly.

" _Uncle_ Matt?"

"Yeah...?" The girl raised a brow at him.

"You like him?"

"Yeah, he's awesome. I like him a lot. And he says you're gonna take him away."

"Why would we put him in jail?"

"Well if I say it, you're gonna _put him in jail!_ " She raised her voice, yellow eyes flashing and little fangs threatening to come out before she reigned in the shift. Stiles would have congratulated her on the self-control if that wouldn't derail the conversation. "I wanna see Uncle Matt. You're mean."

"He's talking to another cop." Stiles sighed. "Okay, let's- let's go this way. What are you supposed to say when someone asks what happened to your family? 'Cause he must have taught you to say something."

Gopika nodded slowly, looking up at Stiles through thick lashes.

"Promise you won't take him to jail?"

Stiles couldn't make that promise, but he could work around it.

"I promise that if he _does_ get taken to jail, it won't be your fault. Can we work with that?"

It was another long, tense moment of silence before she nodded, and Stiles had to fight the urge to punch the air victoriously.

"Okay, good! That's good. Okay. Now. What does he say you're supposed to tell people when they ask what happened to your family?"

"I'm s'posed to say..." Gopika swallowed dryly, staring down at her bony knees. "That Uncle Matt owned my mom when I was born. And- and that she died. So now he owns just me."

"But that's not true."

"No."

"And how did he get you?"

"I think he bought me? I don't know. I don't know a lot about what happened."

Yes. Yes, that was getting somewhere. Good. Okay. Stiles took a deep breath, never looking away from the girl, and carefully not mentioning that Daehler was already in trouble for buying a werewolf under 14.

"Okay. So, what _do_ you know? What happened?"

Gopika shrugged silently, and it took a lot of willpower not to groan in frustration.

"Come on, kiddo. You used to belong to Jackson Whittemore, right? You, your parents, and your little sister?"

"Yeah. Mr Whittemore was nice too. Not as nice as Uncle Matt, but he taught me how to ride a bike and said I could go anywhere as long as mom and dad could still hear me."

Stiles chuckled.

"Just you, or your sister too?"

"Dad didn't want Paramjeet getting too far."

"'Cause she's younger?"

"Yeah, and she has Down's syndrome."

Gopika kept fiddling with the bracelet, now twirling it between and around her fingers, wiggling impatiently on the chair.

"Okay. So, things were good at Mr Whittemore's house, weren't they?"

"Yeah. I liked it there. Mom and Paramjeet did too. Dad didn't."

"Why not?"

Gopika shrugged. "I just know I heard them fight a lot and Dad was saying some really dirty words about Mr Whittemore. And about Mom."

Well, shit.

"Is that why you guys left the house, or did someone take you?"

"I'm not sure why, but we left. One night, Dad grabbed me and Mom grabbed my sister and we ran out. There was a blue car waiting outside, we got in, and that- that was it."

"A blue car? Where'd the car take you?"

"Okay, so, I fell asleep. When I woke up my parents were saying goodbye to me." Gopika's voice started catching in her throat, her eyes pooling with tears. Stiles just waited until the girl was ready to talk again, which she did after a moment. "The lady driving the car said something about a boarding school for gifted kids? I dunno. I was crying a lot. Mom too. But they took Paramjeet, like, Dad carried her 'cause she was still asleep, and they left. The car was really dark. The lady gave me a hug and told me I was going somewhere nice. And then she took me to Uncle Matt's."

Holy shit. Holy shit. Okay. Okay, _progress_. There was a lady. Driving a car. A suspect. They were finally getting somewhere - somewhere eve Chris Argent hadn't been able to get. Fuck yes.

"Good, sweetie, you're doing great." The girl smiled a little shakily at the praise. "Do you remember what car it was?"

Gopika shook her head, pursing her lips together.

"And the lady, do you know her name?"

"No, she didn't say. She was- she was skinny and really pretty. And she was a werewolf for sure. Had a small nose kinda like yours."

"Do you think maybe you could tell a sketch artist what she looked like?"

"I guess." She shrugged. "Will it help you guys find out what happened to my parents?"

Stiles nodded solemnly, so Gopika nodded back.

Later, when the sketch matched a certain young lady's profile in the system, Stiles was sure it had to be a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. This chapter could easily have been twice as long as it is, but I decided to be cohesive and split it in two parts. Part two coming soon!


	10. Unraveling pt 2

The first day went by without a problem. Derek cooked and cleaned and hung out in the bedroom a lot. The little kid who'd slept on him was learning to read, mostly through Clara, and at night he gladly sat the boy down on his lap and read him one of the colorful pop-up books in the toy bin. It was strange, really, how it reminded him of the best and worst periods of his life at the same time - the cramped room with bunk beds and the wolfsbane collar brought back memories of Kate's basement and all the helplessness that he'd felt there, but balancing the small werewolf on his knees and reading him a story was so much like the countless times he'd read to Cora, it was hard not to feel overwhelmed with nostalgia for a moment.

Day two, and no amount of children or tranquility could distract him from the fact that someone could be coming by any second now to get him out of there, back to Allison, back home.

Only nobody did.

Surely she would have called the police by now, right? They probably couldn't find the house, that was all. They'd find him. He'd be okay soon, had to be. Allison was probably worrying herself sick over it, too. She worried about him a lot. Someone was looking for him, he knew it.

On day three he found out what Liam had meant when he told him that Sarah and Peter didn't take mistakes lightly. So far, Peter hadn't come around, but Sarah had, and Derek became reacquainted with how much damage a little electricity could do after he accidentally burned dinner.

Nobody came to get him that day, either. Which put him in a state of jittery distress. Which, in turn, was a distraction. Distracted wolves make mistakes. Mistakes get you punished. It was an old cycle and he was falling right back into it, like he'd never left.

Clara was escorted out of the house in the middle of the night, through the back door, with Dylan in her arms and a slightly panicked look on her face. Derek didn't know whether to be relieved or jealous that it wasn't him.

Day four, nobody came. Derek still jumped every time he heard a car pull up nearby.

Day five, nobody came. He started to worry that maybe something had happened to Allison. Why hadn't she sent anyone? Was she alright? Or maybe she'd already forgotten about him - no, impossible. She liked him. She said she'd miss him. Someone would come. Someone had to come.

On day six, Derek was in the middle of doing the dishes when Peter's scent hit his nostrils, making him have to resist the urge to growl. He smelled like excitement and a hint of desperation and _fucking heat hormones_. Diluted, sure - he was probably on suppressants - but still, this couldn't mean anything good... Only he had Sarah, right? She was his wife. Surely if he had to spend his heat with anyone, it'd be her.

Still, he froze in place, every muscle locked into position as he listened to his uncle's voice over the sound of the water.

"Who haven't I tried yet?" He asked, voice rough and gravelly, as soon as Sarah went to greet him at the door. They kissed wetly, and Derek was definitely not too mature to make a scrunchy face in disgust. This was Peter, after all. But the childish display only lasted a second, before Sarah's next words sent a cold, slimy wave of dread from his head to the bottom of his spine.

"Your nephew. Although, you know, that's incest, so it's kinda- oh. Not a thing with you guys, right?"

"Oh, it's a thing. Just not with me." And Peter was approaching. Shit. _Shit._ Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Just the smell of the beta's heat, warm and heady and thoroughly nauseating, closer and closer until Peter was coming up behind him and his whole body was pressing against Derek's from behind.

This time, it was either growl or puke; Derek chose the former. It got a chuckle out of Peter, low against his ear, making him shiver in the most unpleasant way.

"Now, now, Derek. You weren't so rude to me in front of your human."

"Well, your dick wasn't poking at my leg back then, either." He bit back.

"Smartass. I'm gonna have to teach you manners again, aren't I?"

If he hadn't been wearing the wolfsbane collar, or maybe if he hadn't been conditioned not to resist when someone was touching him this way - or maybe if he weren't just so fucking _tired_ of everything - Derek might have fought back harder. Maybe he could have overpowered Peter or scared him away. But in this state, the protest was as timid as a rumbling sound of warning in the back of his throat, bright Alpha eyes flashing before the wolfsbane kept the shift from going any further.

"I might let you keep that, though. A lot of people like it when you put up a bit of a fight. Makes them feel like they're taming the wild Alpha beast." Peter's hand was sliding up Derek's thigh, all the way up to his groin, giving him a hard squeeze. Maybe it was supposed to be arousing, but Derek only felt more nauseated.

And then his words sank in.

"A lot of people?"

"Yeah?" The beta shrugged like it was obvious, even though it was anything but. "You didn't really think I was letting a fine Hale specimen like you, trained for obedience and everything, just go to waste, right? C'mon, you were such a smart kid. Don't disappoint me."

"What are you gonna do to me?"

"Well." His hand started fumbling with Derek's zipper. "First, I need to take care of my problem here. But it also works to see how well you can take a _real_ cock, not just the toys your old owner liked to use on you. If you're a good boy, somebody else is gonna have their fun with you pretty soon."

Derek had to swallow back bile, remembering how he'd told Peter about Kate and her toys, on a particularly bad night he'd spent awake on the Howl Nerwork to keep the bad dreams away.

"And if I'm not?"

"Then you'll need a little more training before we let you go."

"Go _where_?" He growled.

"If I tell you, it'll just spoil the surprise, won't it?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Derek started to resent Allison for ever letting him know that this wasn't what he was supposed to do, that he deserved more. It had been so much easier to take it and not complain when Derek was convinced this was all he was good for. That there was nothing better out there for him.

On the seventh day, Liam told him, in a kind tone that sounded a lot like pity, that nobody was coming for them - any of them. That he should stop hoping or he'd be even more heartbroken later.

There was no reason to doubt him anymore.

\---

  
**Lydia:** Guys, we have a problem.

  
**Isaac:** Okay...?

  
**Allison:** What's wrong?

  
**Lydia:** Ally, hold onto your hat.

  
**Allison:** Lydia...

  
**Lydia:** So remember the little girl from the Whittemore case?

  
**Isaac:** Isn't this stuff supposed to be confidential?

  
**Lydia:** She told us there was this lady who took her to Daehler's house. And then she described the lady to a sketch artist. Well. Guess who it was.

  
**Stiles:** Malia fucking Tate, that's who.

  
**Allison:** Derek's uncle's kid?

  
**Stiles:** Yup.

  
**Allison:** And she illegally sold an underage werewolf.

  
**Stiles:** I mean, apparently this guy adopted her? The laws on interspecies adoption are still pretty new and kind of fuzzy. But this isn't good. They lied to the girl's family about boarding school and separated her from them.

  
**Isaac:** So you're thinking these guys actually sell the wolves they said they'd help?

  
**Lydia:** That's where it gets weird. Before Derek went to them, we asked around the werewolf community. There were actual, successful adoptions and emancipations. I don't know what to think.

  
**Stiles:** And Gopika seemed to be pretty happy with Daehler. He was definitely not doing anything weird to her.

  
**Isaac:** Yet.

  
**Allison:** Stop it.

  
**Isaac:** With my dad, it started when I was eleven.

  
**Allison:** Stop. It.

  
**Lydia:** We're gonna talk to her today. See what she has to say about it. I'll keep you posted, Ally.

  
**Allison:** Thanks.

  
**Stiles:** You okay?

  
**Allison:** Kind of nauseous. What if they sold him? I fucking let it happen!

  
**Isaac:** What else were you supposed to do? Keep him home against his will?

  
**Allison:** If it meant he'd be safe, yeah.

  
**Stiles:** He's still registered under your name. If he gets sold and we find him, he'll be back to you.

  
**Allison:** What if you find his body instead? Or what if he gets sold to another Kate? Or what if you don't find him at all?

  
**Isaac:** Now it's my turn to tell you: stop it.

  
**Lydia:** Soon as we have some more information, we'll put your dad on this too. Whoever finds him first...

  
**Allison:** I want him back. I'll help him get emancipated the legal way, I swear, but I want him back.

  
**Stiles:** We'll find him, Al. And Gopika's family. Maybe there's nothing wrong with this system of theirs and they really are safe. Maybe. Hopefully.

  
**Allison:** Did you at least put Daehler in jail?

  
**Lydia:** There was no evidence he bought her. We couldn't. But we returned her to Whittemore.

  
**Allison:** Some help that is.

  
**Stiles:** We're doing what we can.

  
**Allison:** I know. I'm sorry. Just... Bring him home?

\---

Malia Tate wasn't exactly friendly, but she was amicable enough, and as Stiles sat with her on one of the empty cafeteria tables after all the other werewolves had gone to class, he decided to interpret that as a good sign. At least she seemed willing to cooperate.

"Yeah, I took her to him. He adopted her. It's not - we didn't do it the legal way, yeah, but I wasn't putting that little girl at risk."

"And that's what you do to the other werewolves? You give them to humans who are trying to adopt?"

Malia folded her arms defensivley, never breaking eye contact.

"Look, if you're gonna make us pay a fine or something, you'll have to talk to my parents. But you can't shut us down. We help a lot of werewolves that you guys don't give a single crap about."

"We're not gonna shut down your service." They might, but she didn't need to know that. "But the story's not adding up. Why'd you separate Gopika from her family?"

Malia rolled her eyes and sighed. "We were already gonna have to split up the kids and the parents anyway. It's what we told them: we emancipate the parents and put the kids up for adoption. We don't have a way to keep a family together, and I know, it sucks, but it's better than letting them stay in bad homes."

"But you didn't have to split the two kids."

"Do you know how hard it is for someone to adopt two pups, even if one of them didn't have special needs? Those girls would have been teenagers by the time someone finally decided to take them both together. We found a home for Gopika and we took the chance!"

It was Stiles' turn to sigh.

"She _had_ a home. All four of them did."

"They left because the father thought Whittemore was screwing his wife."

"Was he?" Stiles raised an eyebrow at the girl, which was met with another eye roll.

"Fuck if I know. We don't question people's motives, we take them in when they ask."

"And why'd you lie to them about where you were taking Gopika?"

"They barely speak English! Boarding school was easier than explaining the _actual_ reason I was separating them."

At this point, Stiles noticed the girl had started to wiggle impatiently in her seat. And sure, he wanted the conversation to be over soon, too, but something told him this wasn't Malia wanting to go back to class - this was Malia wanting to avoid some part of this conversation.

Time to press further.

"Where are they now?"

"At the farm." She averted her eyes, for the first time in this entire conversation. "We haven't found anyone to take Paramjeet yet, so she's still with her parents."

"Take me there."

It wasn't a request. The girl's eyes narrowed at Stiles, flashing yellow for a second, a low growl at the back of her throat as she stood up.

"You're gonna shut us down."

"Not if I don't find a good reason." _Not if I find Derek._ "But if you don't cooperate, I'm gonna have to come back with a warrant, and chances are I'll have no choice."

The possibility of a warrant was apparently enough to deflate Malia into complying.

"Now?"

"Now would be good."

 \---

Scott's grave was nothing impressive. Around it, there were some beautiful pack mausoleums - generations and more generations of werewolves, their stories unfinished - but Scott was a bitten wolf, and had never belonged to a pack, so his final resting place had only a rather modest-looking headstone with his name carved in. It would have felt horribly impersonal if it weren't for the flowers that were always there, adding bright colors to the overload of grey.

Allison could always tell who had left them. 

Stiles tended to like the big, flashy, almost obnoxious bouquets with no card or note, a brightly colored but wordless way to say "I love you, I miss you, I'm so sorry". They had been close since they were four; when Scott died, Stiles had been almost catatonic for an entire two days, and anyone could see he still wasn't entirely okay, months later. That he would probably never be.

Melissa McCall would always leave bunches of baby's breath tied with a blue ribbon - just like the bouquets Scott used to make for her when he was little, she'd told Allison, always plucking them from the neighbor's garden. The loss of her son had very nearly driven her insane with grief, but Melissa was the strongest woman Allison had ever met, and had promptly begun to look after Stiles so lovingly, so carefully, that it broke Allison's heart. Stiles had always been like her second son, but now Melissa seemed to look at him and still see Scott standing right beside his best friend, and for that reason she was always around. Stiles liked it, anyone could tell. They helped each other heal.

The little vases of white roses were Lydia's. Always pretty, bright blue or yellow or green, with thick envelopes tied to the vase or taped to its side. Lydia didn't talk about him much, not really. Whenever he came up in conversation, she'd nod along here and there, keep a close eye on how Stiles was handling it, offer a change of topic if the mood was getting too intense. But the letters she left at his grave were where she poured all her love for someone who had been one of her best friends since third grade, safe within the confines of a paper envelope. Allison had caught her writing, once, and Lydia had promptly stashed the paper away, but the tears that had been running down her face and dripping onto the paper found their way onto Allison's shoulder instead.

Isaac would leave sunflowers. Always tall, pretty sunflowers, in vases or tied with string, exactly like the ones he'd also leave for his mother and brother. He had far too much experience with loss, far too many cumulative hours spent talking to tombstones as if the people buried under them were still there, sitting across from him, just having a casual conversation. He'd faced Scott's death with heartbreakingly quiet resignation, like he'd known all along it was just a matter of time until someone else he loved was taken away. At the funeral, he'd held onto Allison so tight it bordered on painful, a silent plea that she wouldn't be next.

That day, when she lay the usual arrangement of lilies down on the stone, there was baby's breath in a corner, mostly dry already. It made her feel a little less pathetic when she sat on the grass to talk.

"So... Long time no see, huh." She started a little awkwardly. "I'd say sorry I haven't come around as often as I used to, but that's what's supposed to happen, right? I'm supposed to be moving on and stuff. But that doesn't mean I've stopped missing you. I don't think I ever will."

The headstone said nothing.

"I've been meaning to tell you, Derek and I kissed. And it wasn't a heat thing this time, or a drunk thing, I just... I wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to kiss me, and it felt nice. Like really, really nice. And if we had been together, if - if you were still around and stuff, I wouldn't have even wanted to. You were the love of my life. You _are_ the love of my life."

There were hot tears prickling in her eyes now, her voice catching on the words.

"But maybe you don't have to be the _only_ love of my life, you know? It's not like we could ever be together again. And you'd have wanted me to move on and be happy and stuff. I just... Don't want to make it seem like we meant less than we did. We were so good, Scott, so good. You mean the world to me. And even if I started seeing Derek, or- or someone else, or fell in love again, it wouldn't make our story any less important, okay?"

Allison wiped the tear tracks off her cheeks and adjusted herself a little on the grass, fingers trailing along the edges of the tombstone.

"So I wanted to tell you that if Derek..." She took a deep breath. "If Derek comes back, and he wants it too, I wanna be with him. I don't know if it's gonna last, I don't know how it's gonna work, but we might even fall in love. I hope... I hope that wherever you are, you're okay with that."

The tombstone didn't answer, but a bird made a cheerful little sound right outside, and Allison chose to believe that was the universe's way of telling her it was okay.

\---

One week after Derek left, Stiles followed Malia to the farm and found a beautiful place, with stables and horses and a big, cozy house. There was a room for the pups to study and play, plenty of space outside, a library; the bedrooms were comfortable and spacious, separated between children and adults, males and females. Overall, Stiles was pretty impressed. This really seemed like the ideal place for a werewolf to recover from a bad home and for the adults to learn new skills so that they could get decent jobs after their emancipation. Malia wasn't a big talker, but she gave him a quick run-down of how the system worked, showed him every nook and cranny of the property, even pointed out little Paramjeet Nair, coloring at a table with two other pups.

The only problem was that Derek wasn't there. Worse, when Stiles asked about him, Malia seemed very genuinely confused. According to her, there was no Derek Hale in their system.

On day ten, after being brought in for an exhausting three hours of questioning, Daehler finally admitted that he had bought Gopika from an illegal website. That the photos on it had been a little old, but he'd seen her face and she looked "so much" like his daughter who'd passed away a month before. He gave Stiles the link after another half hour of questions and not-so-slight threats.

They opened up the website. _Packmate Express - only the finest wolves in California, tested for quality_ , according to the banner. Upon further inspection, they learned it was an auction-only website, with pictures and brief descriptions of the available werewolves - the older ones stark naked, the children in their underwear and t-shirts - along with a countdown to the day when the bidding for each of them would start. Derek's picture was there, too; bidding would begin in eight days. He looked defeated.

Not even Officer Mahaelani could track the website and give them an address. Apparently, whoever kept updating the website always did it from different places, with different IP addresses, even. Time to figure out another way.

On day twelve, Stiles and Lydia had officially given up on every legal way to get these werewolves out of there without doing any harm to the adoption and emancipation service. Malia was brought in again, shown the website and its services, and as the two werewolf officers confirmed, she was honestly surprised and more than a little horrified. As it turned out, Malia thought her parents were only running the service that took place in the farm, and now that she knew the truth, she wanted to help get the others out before they were sold to any sort of skeevy person who'd want to buy an illegal wolf. She told them she was in charge of delivering the young pups from their previous homes straight to the new owners, but she was always told they were being adopted, not sold. Stiles honestly wanted to give her a hug by the time she was done talking.

On day fifteen, Lydia called Chris Argent on the phone. Chris called Allison. The four of them spent hours at Chris's house, brainstorming.

On day seventeen, they had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People to thank for this chapter: as always, the gorgeous Sarah, Clara, and Gopika, who let me use their names on the OCs, my buddy Larisa (smokesforwolves on tumblr) who helped me with the name for the Packmate Express, and the wonderful Alex (alexenglish here on AO3) whose undying love for Scott McCall prompted the graveyard scene. Thank y'all!
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of starting a small series of little chapters, independent from one another, that happened in this same AU. Some little extras here and there, ya feel me? Would you like that?


	11. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's obviously a lot of messed up sex stuff in this whole story, so please proceed with caution. (There's a threat in this chapter.)

It was three in the morning when Peter woke up to his phone ringing. _Unknown number_ , it said. Mumbling out a curse, he put it on silent and fell back asleep. Sarah was spending the night at the 'unofficial' house, Malia was at the tiny apartment she stayed at during the week, walking distance from her school; if either of them wanted to talk to him, they had their own phones. Anyone else could wait at least until the sun was up.

It buzzed annoyingly again in ten minutes, then in twenty, then an hour later. An hour and a half later, Peter picked up the phone with the sole intention of telling whoever it was to go fuck themselves, but then someone was screaming on the other end, and it sounded remarkably like... 

No. It wasn't. He was just sleepy. Oldest damn trick in the book. He shook his head vigorously.

"Peter Hale?"

"Who's this?"

The feminine voice in the background kept screaming for her father, and damn if it didn't sound exactly like Malia. This was ridiculous. _Everyone sounds kind of similar when they scream. My mind is fucking with me._

"Recognize this voice, Peter?"

"Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?"

"Turn on your computer."

Of all the requests Peter was imagining the stranger could make, this was definitely not one of them. Maybe he wanted Peter to transfer money into an account. _Whatever_. He groaned, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Dad, for fuck's sake, stop being so stubborn and - _fuck you!_ " The distressed girl's voice was cut off with a scream before she cursed, the unmistakable sound of a shock wand punctuating the words.

This couldn't be happening. It wasn't her. Just a cheap trick to get money out of him. Growling, he grabbed the laptop from his desk and opened it up, the screen too bright in the low light of the bedroom.

"You have thirty seconds before I get bored and hang up." He hissed, trying to hold off the panic.

"I don't think you get to decide, now do you? Now, open up your browser..."

The man, whoever he was, remained completely calm and collected as he spelled out an address for Peter to type in, just a seemingly random sequence of letters and numbers that went on for _way too long_ before the silky voice told Peter to press enter.

It was a mostly blank page, with a red, glaring countdown that hadn't started yet, frozen on four hours. Beneath it, there was a screen, with the little 'loading' cirlce in the middle. He sat restlessly, waiting for the feed to begin.

When it did, the rage stirred deep in Peter's stomach quicker than the stranger on the other line could speak again.

It really was Malia, after all. Tied up and messy in a tiny place that looked like a basement, wolfed out, the chains that bound her wrists and ankles buzzing with electricity. Beside his daughter's writhing figure stood a tall man with greying hair, with a phone pressed to his ear and his other hand curled into a fist. He came up behind Malia, _way too fucking close_ , bringing the phone close enough that Peter could hear her near-constant whimpering.

"Say hi to Daddy, sweetheart." He purred, and the loud growl it elicited from Malia matched the one coming from deep within her father's throat, his claws tearing up a spot in the mattress already.

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

"A wolf for a wolf." The eerily calm tone sent a chill down Peter's spine. "Any wolf I want. I know you have the best ones in the market, and I want to choose."

That was it? "Say the name and it's yours, I don't care. Just fucking let her go."

The man chuckled in a condescending way that was about to drive him insane.

"No, no. I want to look with my own eyes, and I want to choose."

Peter swallowed dryly.

"You can't. We're mail order only."

"I think you'll make an exception for me."

"No."

Peter watched helplessly as the man forced Malia's jaw open, drawing a high-pitched whine out of her as he shoved what looked like a few pills down her throat. He walked toward the camera and pressed a button on what Peter assumed was a keyboard; the timer began to run while he returned to Malia's side and offered no help as she coughed dryly.

"What was that?"

"Heat hormones." The man shrugged like it was obvious. "Takes about three hours to really kick in. I think I wanna get myself a puppy."

Peter's claws tore into the mattress.

"You  _wouldn't_ ."

"Not forcefully, of course. Wouldn't dream of it." His hand traced the curve of Malia's hip briefly. "But when she's humping the air, literally begging for it, I think I'd have enough kindness in my heart to put her out of her misery. Unless, of course, Daddy saves the day before the countdown hits zero."

"Fucking fine." Peter spat out, and the man laughed calmly as he recited an address for them to meet at. When Peter confirmed that he'd written it down, the feed was cut off and so was the call, leaving only the bright red countdown in the middle of the screen. 

By the time Peter got his rage under enough control to get into his car and drive, the mattress was history.

\---

"You okay?" Chris asked worriedly as soon as the camera was safely turned off. In a corner of the room, Allison had a hand on the switch and had turned off the current immediately after Chris hung up the phone, both her and Isaac rushing to the girl's aid - which, as it turned out, wasn't necessary; Malia broke out of the chains easily as soon as the electricity had ceased.

"I told you." She smiled, although a little breathlessly. "It _looks_ impressive, but I barely feel it. He just had to hear it and believe I was suffering. I'm fine."

Despite her words, she was trembling slightly, and when she took a large swig from the bottle of water that Chris was holding out for her, a little dribbled down her chin from how shakily she held the bottle.

"Thanks so much for helping us." Isaac said quietly, fingers pressed to the side of her wrist, checking for any irregularities in her pulse. "You put on one hell of a show."

"I'm a screamer."

Allison chuckled at the wording.

"He'll show up, right?"

"Oh, totally." Malia assured her. "Takes a while for him to get here, 'cause the farm is far away, but he'll show up. We just have to wait to get phase two started."

Isaac gently turned Malia to face him, inspecting something on her face; Allison wasn't sure what it was, but he seemed content enough with what he found. The werewolf let him, albeit grumpily; they'd brought Isaac in for exactly that reason - to check that the simulation wouldn't actually affect her health - and while Malia didn't look happy about him invading her personal space, she didn't complain. Allison figured that was already a good outcome.

"You kids should go back upstairs and get some sleep."

"You'll let us know before you go?" Allison asked her father, just to make sure.

"Yeah, of course."

So the four of them made their way out of the basement and settled together in the living room, Chris sprawled on an armchair, Malia on one couch, Allison and Isaac on the other, with her cheek on his shoulder. Derek would be back and safe in just a few hours, she reminded herself. Just a few hours and everything would be okay.

\---

Peter drove all the way to the point where the stranger had told him to wait, his heart jumping to his throat when he saw the silver Toyota already waiting at the side of the road. He pulled up behind it, and his phone rang before he could even get out of the car.

"Where is she?" Peter barked into the phone as soon as he picked it up, hands shaking.

"In the trunk. Don't worry, she's alive. Just a little out of it."

"I wanna see."

The scruffy man sighed on the phone and hung up, then walked out of the car, gun in his hand. Peter met him just as he opened the trunk of the Toyota, drawing his own gun and pointing him to the stranger's head before peeking inside. To where the man had his gun pressed against the temple of a droopy-eyed Malia, whose wrists were tied behind her back and ankles bound together.

It made him want to hurl.

"Shoot me, she's dead." He remarked simply, like he was talking about the weather; his heartbeat was steady and Peter couldn't risk it. Just like he couldn't risk saying no when the man held out his hand and told him, calmly, to hand over the gun. He had another one in the car, anyway. And had spent the whole car ride there on the phone with Sarah. She'd take him down as soon as he appeared by the door.

Malia shuddered in the trunk, and Peter willed himself to swallow down his rage long enough to get back into his car and lead his daughter's kidnapper to the one place he and Sarah had managed to keep absolutely secret since he was seventeen.

\---

The sun was barely even up when Derek was startled awake by the sound of multiple people screaming.

His first reaction was to grab the little wolf who'd been sleeping on his chest and help him hide under the bed, telling him not to move. The beta nodded with wide, apprehensive eyes, and Derek's second reaction was to press his ear against the bedroom door to try and gauge what the hell was going on, while the other wolves woke up in their bunk beds and tried to keep all the pups close.

"What did you do to her?" Yelled Sarah's voice, panicked, from downstairs.

"Just dosed her up with a little wolfsbane so she'd come nice and easy with me." It was Allison's father. Derek recognized the voice. Holy shit, it was Allison's father. Who did he dose up with wolfsbane, and why? Was he here for Derek? Were Stiles and Lydia there too? Was Allison?

Derek dared to open up the door and peek out, and it took a lot of effort to hold in an exclamation of... Surprise? Shock? He didn't even know.

What he did know was that Chris Argent was at the door, holding up a drowsy, messy-haired Malia, who looked like she wouldn't be able to stand up on her own. On the floor, Isaac had Peter pinned down, holding his wrists behind his back, and... Shouldn't he be fighting a little more? Peter was a werewolf, Isaac was human; it should have been harder to keep him down like that. But he was just growling meanacingly, and Allison - fuck, Allison was there - had a knife pressed to Sarah's neck, holding the woman between her smaller body and the wall.

He had no time to melt with relief before Allison yelled out his name, and then he was running down the stairs, heart thumping. She hadn't forgotten, after all. She still wanted him. She still wanted him, right?

"Derek, get everyone out of the house. There's a van waiting outside. Go!"  She ordered without looking at him, struggling to keep Sarah where she was, and Derek would save the relief and gratitude for later. Right now he nodded and ran up the stairs to the bedroom, only to be met with the wide, partly terrified, partly hopeful eyes of four adults and six pups, one of them still fully shifted.

It took about thirty seconds of convincing before they got up and ran downstairs. Liam was second to last, his heart beating fast like a hummingbird as he looked at Derek for confirmation that it was okay, that they wouldn't just get fooled yet again. They wouldn't. Allison was there, and he trusted her. She'd found a way after all.

The last wolf to leave was the little one who had been sleeping on Derek's chest for seventeen consecutive nights, still shaking under the bed, making little whimpering noises in the back of his throat. Derek didn't have time to coax him gently out, not right now, not when Sarah could break free from Allison's hold at any moment, or Peter could manage to push Isaac away. Sighing, he reached under the bed and scooped up the tiny wolf in his arms, about to take off, when a sudden, heart-stopping series of sounds made them freeze in place.

Police sirens outside.

Gunfire.

Allison shrieking.

Someone growling.

Metal clicking.

Lydia's voice yelling "we need a fucking ambulance right now!", sounding absolutely terrified.

"Derek, get your wolfy ass down here _now_!" Stiles screamed, and the scent of distress was so strong, it reached the bedroom. Or maybe it was just Derek. It took him just a second more to grab onto the now whimpering pup and dart downstairs, where...

Where Sarah and Peter were handcuffed and being practically shoved out the door by police officers, Peter's upper arm bleeding as a wound slowly healed around a bullet. Where a fully awake Malia, Liam, Lydia, and Isaac were crouched around someone whose hair was the only part Derek could see, both werewolves touching the person, black tendrils running up their arms all the way to their necks.

And then the person's scent hit Derek, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Derek. Take the kid and get in the car with the other wolves. Now." Stiles grabbed him by the shoulders, much harsher than he'd been when taking him out of Kate's house, but Derek couldn't move. "I am not kidding, dude, if you don't get your ass in there-"

"I can help." He mumbled numbly, rushing to Allison's side, but was stopped by a hard shove from Stiles.

"You've done enough. Get the fuck out of here."

"Stiles..." Allison's voice was weak; it made Derek want to cry, or throw up, or both. Stiles ignored her; his eyes just narrow slits as he grabbed a fistful of Derek's hair. He smelled of worry and fury in equal proportions. 

"Listen, buddy, if it weren't for you wanting your emancipation so bad you couldn't wait _two years_ living with the best fucking owner you could have ever asked for-" his eyes were brimming with tears, hand tugging harder on Derek's hair. "then your uncle wouldn't have shot her, and she wouldn't be bleeding right now 'cause she came after your sorry ass. So I swear to God, either you get in the damn van or I'll-"

"Stiles." This time it was Lydia, and Stiles begrudgingly let go. Right now, as he obediently made his way into the cramped van with clumsy footsteps, followed by a hesitant Liam, Derek couldn't think of anything other than the bullet wound on Allison's side, Stiles' words playing on loop in his head.

\---

Allison was about to pass out, even with Malia pulling pain from her and the shirt that Isaac had hastily wrapped around her to try and staunch the bleeding. Lydia kept trying to coach her - _breathe, Ally, you'll be okay, the ambulance is coming, stay with me, Allison, come on, please_ \- but it was hard to focus; she kept drifting in and out, all the while thinking it was so goddamn ironic that she should die from a _fucking bullet shot by a fucking werewolf_. Life goes around.

It felt like watching a time-lapse video. She closed her eyes once and suddenly someone was lifting her onto a stretcher. Closed them again and there was a needle poking out of her arm, Lydia and Isaac hovering over her as someone gently dressed the wound, the world shaking, everything out of focus. Isaac kept yelling instructions at a disgruntled paramedic, apparently forgetting that he was a werewolf doctor and that the paramedics knew what they were doing. She'd laugh and hug him if she could, but all she could do right now was try and stay awake. It didn't work. Maybe they were giving her a sedative?

When Allison woke up again, she was under the bright lights of a hospital room, and everything seemed perfectly okay until she took a deep breath and was met with a sharp pain right below her lung. The whine that escaped her caught the attention of the nurse - none other than Melissa McCall, bless her - who smiled sweetly at Allison, relief clear in her face.

"Morning, sweetheart." She grinned as she wrapped a cuff around Allison's arm to check her blood pressure. "How do you feel?" 

"Could be a lot worse." She shrugged, only to immediately regret the movement. "Did everyone get out okay? Derek? Malia? The pups?"

"Everyone's fine. The werewolves are still in custody, including Derek, but they'll all be okay. Tate and Hale are looking at ten years, minimum, and her license to own wolves was revoked permanently."

The cuff tightened around Allison's arm, and they were both quiet for a moment as Melissa pressed the steth to her inner elbow for a few seconds, then jotted down a number on Allison's file, signaling that it was okay to talk again.

"That's not a lot. They were trafficking wolves illegally for years. Several wolves."

"I know. Arm up, honey."

Allison raised her arm on the side that didn't hurt, allowing the nurse to press a thermometer into her armpit and push her arm back down to keep it in place.

"What happens to the wolves now?"

"You should really ask Stiles or Lydia or the Sherriff about this, but from what I hear, they'll be able to choose. They can go back to their previous owners, or report said owners for abuse and then get sold to someone else. There's a third option, but it's not really legal, so Stiles is offering it to them as a kind of a last resort."

"What is it?"

"The service they were actually offered in the first place."

"But who's gonna run it now? And- and what happens to Malia now that she's not her mom's property anymore? When can I see-"

The thermometer beeped; Melissa pulled it off and wrote down the temperature before turning her attention back to Allison.

"You just relax, alright? Call your friends. Isaac brought your phone; he's at work, but he'll come by at lunchtime. Stiles and Lydia aren't gonna be able to come around until they get off work, but they asked you to call as soon as you were awake. And you haven't even asked anything about yourself yet."

Allison sighed, resigned to just do nothing for a while, as much as she hated it. She'd find out the details later.

"So... How am I?" She asked with a chuckle.

"The bullet penetrated two layers of muscle, but it didn't go deep enough to get your liver or high enough to get your lungs. And we found out you've probably been anaemic for a while. You'll need some bed rest, some iron supplements, and a lot of painkillers, but you'll be okay. Soon as we can switch to oral antibiotics, you can go home."

Allison supposed she was lucky. It could have been much, much worse. Or maybe it was just the kind smile on Melissa's face, the firmness in her words, that gave her a wonderful feeling of security. _If Melissa McCall says you'll be okay, you'll be okay._

"Thanks." She smiled, still a little dopey.

"You don't scare me like that again, alright?" The nurse reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, then leaned in to press a little kiss to her forehead.

"Believe me, I'll try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not happy with this chapter, honestly, but I wanted to put it out there because at least 85% of that unhappiness comes from my inability to write action. As always, thanks to Sarah for the everything. New one will be out soon enough.
> 
> EDIT: after checking with my teacher, I discovered that Allison's injury (cracked rib, no liver or lung damage) would not be possible in real life. So I tweaked it a little bit, and I'm not sure if it's super lifelike now, but just bear with me, okay?


	12. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, unexpectedly, the story has come to the most organic-feeling end I have ever written. I'm a little bummed, but FEAR NOT, FRIENDS! Soon there'll be a PART TWO, and while it's not really a sequel, it's still gonna be pretty damn good. Definitely not tired of this 'verse yet. More information at the end of the chapter. :)

  
**Allison:** I hereby inform you that I'm awake, alive, and kind of confused.

  
**Lydia:** Thank God. You okay? I mean, relatively?

  
**Stiles:** You scared the crap out of us.

  
**Isaac:** Yeah, no more of that. Like, ever.

  
**Allison:** I don't plan on getting shot again anytime soon, guys. And I'm okay.

  
**Stiles:** Does it hurt?

  
**Allison:** Not too much.

  
**Isaac:** 1/10?

  
**Allison:** Like six and a half.

  
**Isaac:** That's not terrible, I guess.

  
**Stiles:** Melissa's looking after her, though. She'll be fine. You'll be fine, right?

  
**Allison:** Of course, yeah.

  
**Isaac:** I get my break in 20. I'll be there soon. Are you on any dietary restrictions?

  
**Allison:** Not that I know of. It didn't get any organs, so I don't really see why I would be?

  
**Isaac:** Then I'll bring you Oreos.

  
**Allison:** I love you. :)

  
**Lydia:** Stiles and I will be there by the end of the day, okay? Right now, things are crazy.

  
**Allison:** I can imagine. What's gonna happen now?

  
**Lydia:** Hang on.

  
**Isaac:** Stiles, you've been typing for an eternity.

  
**Stiles:** Yeah, well, Lydia just asked me to fill you in on /everything/. So basically here's the 411:

\- Jessie and James are nice and safe behind bars. Which is awesome.

\- Yes, that was a Pokemon reference. Shut up.

\- All the wolves are on their way either back to their old homes or to my dad's office, where they'll be reporting the bad owners for abuse and hopefully going back on the market.

\- The kiddos are all going to foster homes. Two of them are actually getting adopted by someone at the station.

\- The service, btw, Malia's taking over it and changing it up. Derek actually offered to help, since he's an adult and stuff. Of course it's still not legal, but we're keeping all talk of it between the wolves and a very select few officers with great blind-eye-turning abilities.

\- Malia's going on the market, though.

\- Derek's /not/ okay.

  
**Isaac:** No wonder this was taking forever. Also, I'll take Malia.

  
**Allison:** You sure about that?

  
**Isaac:** Yeah, absolutely. What about Derek?

  
**Allison:** I'm taking him back. Obviously. And what do you mean, he's not okay?

  
**Stiles:** I think he needs to get home. They all do. He's just sad. And anxious. Really fucking anxious.

  
**Allison:** Can you take him to my house? Doesn't matter that I'm not there yet. He can make himself at home.

  
**Stiles:** Yeah, of course. I just needed to know for sure you'd be taking him back.

  
**Allison:** Thanks so much.

  
**Stiles:** Love you, buddy.

 

\---

 

On the evening of the eighteenth day, after the wolfsbane collar was removed and the missing strength began to return to his body, Derek was driven to Allison's house by a very quiet Stiles, neither of them daring to break the silence in the car the whole way. The only words exchanged between them were Stiles' declaration that Allison would be home in "three days, if everything works out okay", and Derek's quiet "thank you" in return.

 

His phone was still wherever Sarah had been keeping it, but there was a landline in the house, and he knew Allison's number by heart. Still, as much as he wanted - needed - to hear from the human herself that she was alive and well, he had no idea what to say. _Sorry I went away and got your ass in trouble_ didn't seem to cut it. _Please come back soon_ was too needy, too clingy, would make her worry about him instead of her own recovery. _I need you to be okay_ , while true, would be redundant. He gave up on the call altogether. Her friends were with her, after all. She didn't need him yet.

 

The first thing Derek did when he arrived was hop into the shower and meticulously scrub away every last bit of Peter's scent, Sarah's scent, the strange smell of the walls - which, as he'd heard, turned out to be mountain ash infused into the paint, probably so the wolves could only come in and out of the house when a human opened the door - until his skin was red and sensitive. Until he was covered in the deliciously comforting scent of the hypoallergenic baby soap Allison liked to buy. Satisfied, he dried off with a clean towel and went to look for the very few clothes he'd left in the house.

 

His room - or, more accurately, Allison's guest room - looked so bare now, it was more than a little depressing. Aside from the sheets on the bed (flowery, smelling fairly new, his forest green comforter nowhere to be seen) there wasn't a single personal thing left there, much like when he'd first helped the human clean out the mess in the room so they could make it his own. It felt wrong now. After a little bit of scavenging, he caught a whiff of his scent under the bed, coming from a cardboard box that had been pushed into a dark little corner. Like Allison didn't want to see it or think about it - _him_ \- ever again. He didn't blame her.

 

Swallowing the hurt, he donned his blue pajamas - the ones he'd forgotten in the dryer before leaving - and went to make himself a very quick dinner of defrosted rice and fried eggs. There wasn't much energy left to do anything else tonight, really; the removal of the collar gave him back his powers, but certainly not the eighteen nights of uneasy sleep and all that had happened in between. So after quickly wolfing down his meal - and shaking his head at himself for the pun - Derek wasn't even embarrassed of his own neediness as he curled up in Allison's bed, under her blanket, safely enveloped in the human's scent. With a soft little sigh of satisfaction, he let the warmth and familiarity soothe him to sleep.

 

Day nineteen was a Tuesday, so he helped Ethan clean the house, partly out of habit, partly to keep himself occupied. The wolf asked him endless questions about Allison, about Peter's service, about why he'd left and why he'd come back. Had it been just a random beta, he wouldn't have even bothered to answer half of them, but this was a wolf that Allison cared a lot about, who'd known her since she was little, and Derek already owed her so much, the least he could do was be polite to the curious beta. Which certainly didn't stop him from being immensely relieved when Ethan finally left.

 

Derek wasn't sure what to do when he found himself alone again. Thankfully, he'd left the computer at the house - it had been Allison's, after all; he figured he'd buy one when he'd saved up his own money - and found that it hadn't been formatted yet. Maybe Allison had forgotten, or maybe, just maybe, part of her had hoped he'd be back for good at some point. He chose to believe the latter.

 

It took a little hesitation for him to open up the Howl Network again. It took a lot of hesitation to click the _new thread_ button and start typing.

 

-

**Thread: Emancipation/adoption scam and good news**

**Posted by SeeYouInHale at 7:09**

This is a very important issue, and I really hope you guys read this thread until the end.

Several of us here at the Howl Network have been contacted by the user RadDan77, whose actual name is Peter Hale, with the offer of an easier way to be emancipated without waiting to meet the legal requirements or paying the government fees. He warned us that it was illegal, but that the system didn't care, and mentioned that he and his wife, Sarah Tate, also offered an adoption service for orphaned or abandoned pups who were too young to be sold. For any number of different reasons, people trusted him. I was one of these people.

Now, their business consisted of two branches. 

Most of the wolves they took in were sent to a farm - the location of which I won't be disclosing, for reasons you'll see below - and actually received what they'd been promised. I personally haven't seen that farm, but I have it on good authority that it's a great place where the wolves are treated nicely and the adults learn some skills so they can get good jobs once they're finally emancipated. More on that in a later addition to this post.

The second branch of the business was much, much darker. I'm not sure how they chose who would go where, but some of the wolves they promised to help were taken to another place - a tiny little house in the middle of nowhere - and "trained for obedience", which is exactly as terrifying as it sounds, before being auctioned off illegally in the Deep Web, on a website called The Packmate Express (deactivated, screencap below).

_[file: img038.jpeg - click to download, right-click for more options]_

From the moment I got to the house, already without my owner's collar, I was told to text my owner telling her that I'd arrived safely. Of course, I asked her to call the police if I didn't text back in a few days, but it was fruitless; my phone was taken away that same day, and Sarah spoke to my owner pretending to be me. I was dosed with enough wolfsbane to make a grown Alpha pass out, and when I woke up, there was a wolfsbane collar around my neck; it stopped me from shifting any further than the eyes. 

In the eighteen days I was stuck there, I was punished violently for small mistakes, raped more than once by both of them, and saw the same treatment being given to all the other adults. Those of you who have seen my posts here know I've been repeatedly assaulted by a previous owner; they knew it, too, and used this knowledge to their advantage. It happened to everyone; they'd ask personal questions 'for safety' before taking us, and then use the information they had about our weaknesses and traumas to control us more easily. The children weren't touched sexually, that I know of, and their punishments weren't as harsh, but the treatment they received was still far, far from okay.

I would have been auctioned off if Peter and Sarah hadn't been caught. Fortunately, my owner noticed something was wrong - I'm still not sure how - and managed to have them arrested and all the wolves freed.

Which is where the good news come in.

Along with Peter and Sarah's daughter, Malia, I am taking over the administration of the business, and there are going to be some changes to it. Obviously, the Packmate Express won't exist anymore, but that's not all.

I took their offer in a moment of bad judgement, but most of the other wolves who did it needed a way out of a bad home. The service that Peter and Sarah advertised actually worked fairly well, and it did help a lot of people, but they were still registered under their owners' names and technically could be taken back, legally, at any moment. What we're working on is a whole new system that will still gladly take in the adults who need help, but instead of illegal emancipations that are only valid in werewolf communities, they'll get the chance to report their abusive owners and then temporarily (more information soon) belong to trustworthy humans, only in paper, while still living at the farm, long enough to get legally emancipated. The adoption service will continue to be the same.

We understand that you have every right to be skeptical about this, and we'll answer - publicly or privately - any questions you might have. If you need our service and come to us, we'll do our absolute best to ensure your safety; we'll provide a phone number you can give to someone you trust so that they can speak to you at virtually any time, and Skype calls are encouraged. The only reason we won't be disclosing the address of the farm is precisely for the sake of those whose previous owners could come after them and take them back into an unsafe environment.

Malia is still getting settled in her new house, but she'll be making her own addition to this post soon enough. In the meantime, you can contact me via private message or reply below, and if you want to be anonymous, you can send an email to ds.hale@gmail.com and I'll reply as soon as I can. Malia will leave her own contact information on her post.

And if you take nothing else from this story, please at least see it as a cautionary tale. Do your research before trusting someone, especially if they seem a little too benevolent to be true. Don't be afraid to ask too many questions and put your well-being above their demands. Sometimes it's worth it.

Sincerely,

Derek S. Hale

-

The rest of that day was filled with messages. Derek answered each of them as soon as they came, gladly immersed in the task.

Day twenty, despite the plentiful influx of messages, was slow and boring; Derek was running out of things to distract himself with, running out of tasks, Allison's absence becoming progressively more painful. _She'll be back tomorrow_ sounded like an empty promise to his own ears. As the hours dragged on, Derek was practically jumping out of his skin by the time he went to sleep, still huddled under Allison's blanket, grabbing at it with clenched fists like it'd disappear if he didn't.

But on day twenty-one, he woke up early to the sound of keys jiggling in the lock. His heart jumped as the warm scent of his owner invaded the house, and then a moment later they were both standing in the kitchen, Derek only resisting the overwhelming urge to hug her because she smelled like pain and happiness in equal amounts.

He reached out his hand instead, and Allison took it, her bright smile leaving him utterly speechless. Wordlessly, he pulled all the pain he could, black veins reaching up to his shoulder and disappearing into his neck. It hurt, sure, but when Allison closed the distance between them with arms wrapped around his waist and her face hidden against his shoulder, it was worth not just the momentary pain, but all of the past three weeks.

"Missed you..." She muttered into his shirt, heartbeats confirming the admission. "Did they hurt you? Are you okay?"

"I should be the one asking you that. You got shot."

"I'll be fine. Just gotta take pills and rest."

Derek could tell she was downplaying it, but he wouldn't push it right now; if Allison said she'd be okay, she would be. Derek would do all he could to make sure of it. He kept one arm carefully around the human's waist, free hand drawing a line gingerly from her hip up to her ribs, stopping when he felt the soft volume of a bandage.

"Can I see? Or does it have to stay covered?"

"I can show you."

Without completely pulling away from the embrace, Allison lifted her shirt and pulled back the dressing to reveal a few stitches, smaller and less angry-looking than Derek had been expecting, much to his relief. After a moment, she sealed it back up, big brown eyes locking with his.

"You didn't answer my question."

"It doesn't matter. It's in the past." He shrugged off his owner's worries. "I'm home now, right?"

Derek didn't think he'd said anything extraordinary until Allison's mouth fell slightly open, speechless, with a look of happy surprise. It still took a few seconds for her to nod proudly, and then Derek noticed.

It had been so long since somewhere felt like home, and now he had it.

It had been so long since some _one_ felt like home, and now here she was, beaming at him so beautifully, he didn't think twice before leaning in and claiming that smile with a kiss.

It wasn't a goodbye this time. It was more along the lines of _welcome back where you belong_.

"I noticed you kept my collar." He whispered against her lips when they pulled apart just slightly for air, contentment making him almost dizzy. "Were you hoping I'd come back?"

Allison chuckled.

"I was hoping the reason would be a lot happier than 'kidnapped and held captive by crazy uncle', but yeah, kind of. I mean, I'll still help you get emancipated as soon as you're allowed, I promise, just-"

"Thank you." Derek cut her off. He knew she'd help. He also knew that when he was emancipated, working somewhere for his own salary, he'd still want to be wherever she was too. Mostly, he was honestly awed by the certainty that she wouldn't give up on him, not now, not ever.

He worried for a moment that maybe interrupting her had been too much, but then it was hard to worry about anything when Allison was kissing him again, firmer and more enthusiastic this time.

"Til then... Do you want the collar back?"

He didn't hesitate a single second before nodding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for sticking with me and with the story! Y'all are the best. :) As usual, HUGE thanks to my beta, Sarah, who allowed me to make her into a villain for this fic as long as she got to bang Ian Bohen every now and then. ANYWAY.
> 
> Part two is gonna be a series of unrelated one-shots within this 'verse. They can happen during the timeline of the story, years before, years after, you name it. So far, I have plans for the following:  
> \- A scene with 11-year-old Allison  
> \- Something fun with Isaac from when they were roommates  
> \- ANGST  
> \- Sciles brotp moments. Feels might happen
> 
> Last but not least, there is some crap going on in the fandom. We all know it. Dallison fics aren't being affected, as far as I know, but there's someone attacking Scerek/Sciles/Sceo shippers, and they need to be stopped. I'd like you to take a moment to look at this.
> 
> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be irregular, but I hope you guys stick with me!


End file.
